


Eddsworld Oneshots (Mostly Ships) Inspired by Promtps or Just My Weird Ass Imagination

by Digital_Night_Sky



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, All of this is gay, Angst, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies AU, Fluff, Future AU, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jealousy, M/M, Matt gets drunk on eggnog in one chapter, More tags will be added as I continue posting stories, Patryck & Paul are Tord's adopted parents AU, SO VERY GAY, Tord acts very romantic in multiple, but since his canon self is a jerk i made him kinda evil in a few, but the later ones are better tbh, i personally dont recommend reading the first few chapters cuz they're old writing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-04-07 07:03:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 30,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14075535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Digital_Night_Sky/pseuds/Digital_Night_Sky
Summary: The title pretty much sums the whole thing up, but expect a lot of TomTordThere will be other ships too don't worryThank Undauntedlily for this work tbh I was just gonna post a bunch of separate oneshots but this is better :)*Requests are open guys don't be shy ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)





	1. A Jealous Eduardo - (Jon/Mark)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mark got to Jon before Eduardo could, and he's not feeling very excited for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Eduardo, there's more fish in the sea} Thank Undauntedlily for the prompt! :)
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy!

He hated it.

Eduardo  _ hated it.  _ Why him? Why did it have to be  _ him, _ of all people?

He watched - no, he  _ glared _ \- at the couple before him, laughing and giggling while they held hands, every time they went out to do something. He didn’t sign up to be the third wheel. He hadn’t decided to live with these two just to gag every time they did something cute or affectionate or lovey-dovey.

Jon and Mark were together. Mark had gotten to him first before Eduardo could. He’d considered himself to be the big shot, the prideful and fearless Numero Uno - but out of everything he could have been afraid of, he was too scared to admit that he’d developed a crush on the adorable, beady-eyed dunce.

He loved him for him, but he hated Jon for making him love him.

It was  _ so stupid. _ It made him want to punch himself. Jon was annoying, dumb, weak, everything that Eduardo wasn’t - but he considered the shorter Englishman to be unbelievably cute when he did or said something senseless. He thought he was the only one who’d felt this way towards Jon, that he had no kind of competition - but then Mark came along and swept him off his feet, leaving Eduardo completely jaw-dropped.

No one had seen that coming.

And both of them were so unaware of the fact, and as much as he wanted to shout at them to get a room so he wouldn’t have to suffer, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He considered Mark to be his best friend, the only tolerable person he could stand living with - but now he could only feel an uncontrollable envy towards the butt-chinned blonde.

But, if Mark made Jon happy, then he supposed he couldn’t do much about it.

He respected their relationship, overall, as much as he didn’t want to. But that didn’t mean he was going to pretend to be happy for them.

One day had been particularly hard for him when Jon and Mark’s one month anniversary was coming up, and they were making plans to go to an amusement park to celebrate. Eduardo rolled his eyes at that - One month, seriously? They couldn’t wait for six at the very least?

He sipped nonchalantly at his mug, trying to focus on the newspaper before him while the couple sat on the love couch, being as sappy as always as they twittered away.

“I can’t wait for the water slides!” Jon squeaked happily.

“I heard their cotton candy’s good too,” Mark added, and for a while it went just like that - until Eduardo decided he’d had enough. He slammed the newspaper down and glared at the two.

“An  _ amusement park?  _ Really?” he snarled, his lip curling. “If I were to have an anniversary, I’d fly ourselves to Spain and book a room at a five-star hotel for the rest of the month! But you guys are just gonna waste your money on cheap carnival food and broken down rides?”

He scoffed, turning around and trying to ignore the shocked and hurt looks pointing at his direction, and straightened out the newspaper again. “Fine by me,” he muttered.

Silence. He smirked. Good, they’d gotten the memo - he wasn’t putting up their bullshit. He heard the two whispering to each other, but he could barely make out what they were saying over the fumes of anger coming out of his ears - and that was when he realized that he’d probably gone a bit too far.

Finally, when the silence was getting unbearable, the pair got up, Mark went upstairs, and Jon walked over to Eduardo, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Sorry if we upset you,” Jon said sadly, and Eduardo merely grunted as he crossed his arms. Just another reminder of why he liked Jon so much - he always forgave him when all he had to offer was attitude.

“One day you’ll find someone to take to Spain on your anniversary,” Jon added with a more cheerful tone, a goofy smile spreading across his face, like he was making Eduardo feeling any better. He wanted to smack him and hug him simultaneously.

“Whatever,” the man growled. “Just enjoy your day with Mark, I don’t care.” Jon didn’t know about his hidden secrets locked in his heart, and he never would.

But then his eyes rested on Jon’s wrist, which was ornamented with a bracelet, embedded with sapphires and onyx with his name on it, beautifully etched in cursive.

Mark’s made his mark, he supposed, fighting the urge of tears as he stared. He could have spoiled Jon like that, if he wasn’t so hardened, so stubborn, so careless.

He got up from his seat, his radioactive coffee gone cold, and went upstairs.

Good for him.


	2. Stitches - (Virgil/Feliks)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Feliks come back from the battle field from another injury yet again, you'd expect his doctor and partner to be used to his daily visits.  
> But Virgil isn't, not in the very least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Undauntedlily definitely deserves some of the credit for this story because they and their boyfriend's OCs are used in this fic, they're so cute oml <33  
> Thanks for being cool bro :)) Hope you guys enjoy!

Feliks hissed as he held onto his bleeding forearm, his hand getting soaked with the sticky crimson liquid as he struggled to stop the flow. He walked quickly through the halls of the army base, having already memorized Virgil’s office location, with Patryk by his side.

He needed to learn how to stop being so careless. Sure, every soldier gets hurt in battle, and he was grateful to come back in one piece, but this time he had almost gotten his arm sliced open by  _a falling piece of metal._ They had managed to blow up one of their enemy’s helicopters that had tried to attack their base, and while they were too busy celebrating a broken part of the contraption had been plummeting towards him.

If Patryk hadn’t warned him to watch out, he could have died.  _Out of all the justifiable deaths he could have died of in war, he almost died over a piece of falling metal._

Feliks was kind of used to being around close-death experiences, though, so it didn’t scare him that much. He loved his job as a soldier, he always got some sort of part in the exhilarating  battles and knowing he was fighting for a cause. But there was someone who did  _not_ like it when he went to the medical office - and it was the doctor Virgil himself.

He had been going through a couple of files, filled with papers of soldiers who had applied for health insurance, when the black-haired man heard the door open.

“How may I help you?” he asked, not even looking up, not thinking it was a big deal. Feliks smiled - Virgil was so attractive with those glasses as he gave his complete attention to his work, how content he looked as he scanned through the papers. He could watch him like this for hours, but it sucked that he was about to drop a bomb on him. Again. “Hey, Virgil. I’m back.”

The doctor looked up immediately, recognizing his partner’s voice, enlightened at first until he saw the situation: “Feliks, what’re you doing he - woah, what  _happened_?” he asked, shocked as he stood up and quickly walked over to the soldier.

The tanned man shrugged, a feeble smiling tugging the corner of his lips. “Long story, it’s my fault. You think you could, uh, slap a bandaid on it and call it a day?”

Virgil shook his head; this man was such a tease when he wasn’t serious. “Just by looking at it I can already tell this needs stitches,” he muttered, and Feliks went stiff.

“Woah, w-whaddya talkin’ about?” he stuttered, backing away a little. “It can’t be that bad - “

If there was one thing he hated more than spinach and needles, it was  _stitches._ It was literally needles poking in and out of him over and over as his skin closed back up, just the thought of it made him sick -

“Yes, it’s bad,” the doctor stated, “I can literally see the muscle tissue from this angle. Come with me,” Virgil said, concern clarified in his expression as he lead the reluctant man to a room that had tables that were arranged with an array of assorted medical tools, many of them looking unpleasantly sharp. One thing Feliks was sure of - the only good thing coming out of this was that he was going to get one hell of a cool scar.

But was it really worth stiches?  _Stitches?_

Virgil asked him to take off his jacket and demanded him to explain what had caused such a bloody sight. Feliks recounted the story as the doctor cleaned the mess with a towel, shaking his head the whole time. “This is crazy,” he breathed, looking at the gash that had stretched from his shoulder to his elbow. “I’m surprised you haven’t passed out by the amount of blood you’ve lost,” he added as he filled a needle with anesthesia, but figuring that Feliks was considerably thick in muscle and sturdy in endurance, it shouldn’t be much of a shocker.

But still. He wasn’t overjoyed to see him like this.

Feliks must have noticed his look, for he smiled softly and grasped his hand. “Hey, I’m alright, really,” he assured him, tugging his sleeve. “At least it wasn’t a gunshot, yeah?”

Virgil sighed, gently grabbing Feliks’s arm and quickly injected the painkiller in his veins before he could protest. “I know,” he admitted quietly, preparing the tools to start the stitching, “but you should really be more careful, that was careless . . . “

Feliks stared at the needle getting closer and closer to his arm, his eyes widening as he shivered a little in fear. Virgil rested his hand on his cheek and gently pushed his gaze away from the sight. “You won’t even feel it, stop being such a kid,” he teased, trying to ease himself of the uneasy feeling in his stomach. He knew soldiers were in a much bigger risk of getting injured or killed out of any other ranks in the army, and that was why he hesitated going out with Feliks at first . . .

But how could he resist him? He talked to him and listened to him when no one else wanted to. He made him smile when he really wanted to give up and call it a day. “Feliks . . . you need to be more careful,” he began while he continued to stitch the man up.

Feliks grinned a bit, trying hard to ignore the weird feeling of the needle piercing through his numb skin. “Shouldn’t you be used to seeing me in here by now?” he quipped.

“I’m serious,” Virgil said, stopping and looking into Feliks’s eyes with a hardened expression. “I’m so glad Patryk was there to save you from - from whatever the hell would have happened if he didn’t say anything. But what if no one noticed? What would’ve happened? What would I have done?”

Usually Virgil held his composure, but suddenly one of his darkest fears and deepest worries were flooding out of him as his teeth gritted. He needed to make Feliks understand that  _he would be lost without him._

Feliks gulped, casting his gaze to the ground with a guilty and hurt expression. “You’re right,” he admitted, the truth of his words settling into his mind. “I . . . I’m sorry, Virgil, it’s just - stuff like this happens, you know? And we can’t always help it, what we do is dangerous - “

“I know,” Virgil sighed gloomily, resuming with the stitching and finishing up. “But that doesn’t make me worry any less, you know. No one else here acknowledges me besides you, Red Leader, and his second-in-commands,” he said, referring to Patryk and Paul. He then leaned down and gave Feliks a hug, careful not to lean against his stitches. “You’re so special to me,” he muttered softly, letting his partner’s hair brush against his cheek. “I don’t know what I would do if something serious were to happen, I’d get desperate - “

Fear struck his heart, terrified that one day he’d receive the news of Feliks’s death, and his voice shook, but he struggled to keep himself under control. It didn’t go unnoticed; Feliks used his good arm and stroked his back, whispering comfort in his ears.

This side of Virgil was rarely shown, but he knew the doctor like the back of his hand. “I swear, from now on I’ll be more careful, I promise,” he murmured into his shoulder. “I won’t leave you alone.” Although he knew that, if death surprised him one day and he unwillingly broke the promise he made, he’d make sure he’d try hard to do anything to keep Virgil happy when he was still alive.

And, for now, the doctor seemed content, and that was all the encouragement he needed to keep pushing forward. He pulled away from Virgil’s embrace and pressed a soft, chaste kiss on his lips as he cupped his face, smiling. “Just in case you forgot how much I love you,” he said sweetly, and the doctor pulled away completely, blushing and totally flustered from the surprised gesture.

“Very funny, Feliks,” he said, rolling his eyes playfully as he kissed his forehead in return. “I’m going to get some bandages to wrap that up in,” he said, gesturing to the stitched wound. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he added, half-joking and half-serious as he pointed a finger at Feliks and walked out the room. The soldier laughed. “Don’t forget my lollipop,” he called after him.

Virgil shook his head, still blushing, and made his way to his office where bandages were held in the drawer of his desk. Patryk was standing there, looking like he was waiting for something.

“Is he gonna be okay?” Patryk asked.

“Yeah, he is,” Virgil replied. “Why are you here?” he asked, out of curiosity.

Patryk shook his head, scoffing. “After I took Feliks in  to get him checked out, I go to the cafeteria to find Paul having a milk-chugging contest with Yuu,” he explained. “Now he’s in that room, throwing up dairy . . . “

Virgil chuckled, standing up and preparing to go back to Feliks.  _Looks like I’m not the only one dating a dunce,_ he thought, walking into the room and seeing the tanned man beaming at his return. He couldn’t help but smile back.

But he was his, and he couldn’t complain with that. Not at all.

 


	3. A Oneshot I Wrote to Rant - Abused (Tom/Tord)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tord is tired of standing by and needs to know when Tom's suffering will stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so i got in trouble the other day and i got my phone taken away but for some miraculous reason I still have my laptop so I wrote this oneshot to rant, hope you enjoy

Tord loved Tom with a furious passion, but he hated his stepfather. He hated how he hurt him, how he mistreated him like he was newspaper made to be stained and crumbled and thrown away. He hated how Tom would show up to school with a new mark almost every day, how his beautiful pale skin would be blotted with black and blue and red, how it became harder and harder for him to smile when all his expression read was pain.

He hated how he was forced to stand by and let it happen.

Tord’s initial instinct was to pay his stepfather a visit before notifying the authorities once he found out where Tom’s bruises and marks came from, but Tom begged him not to report his abuser to the police station - if he did, he’d be taken into custody and Tom wouldn’t have anywhere else to go. He’d have to go live in a foster home and leave Tord behind, and neither of them were willing to risk that.

But if he had the chance, he’d gladly break all two hundred and six bones in his body, one by one.  Some firearms would be involved too, maybe. Inconsiderate bastard.

“How much longer will this last, Thomas?” Tord asked one day, quietly but desperately as he touched Tom’s cheek, the two of them standing near a locker in an empty hallway after school. Tom deserved the world, he didn’t deserve this.

“I’m almost eighteen, Tord,” Tom insisted softly, grabbing his arm gently. “As soon as the clock strikes midnight next week I’m out of there.”

Tord cupped his face with his delicate hands, unable to ignore the fresh cut on the corner of his lip as he frowned. “You’re staying with me, aren’t you?” he probed, needing to know that soon Tom would be safe, free of his stepfather’s iron grip and in Tord’s guard.

Tom nodded, leaning up to kiss his lips slowly. Tord leaned down to make it easier for the shorter Englishman, careful to avoid the injury, his eyes half-lidded as he studied Tom’s face. It was rare to see him look so peaceful, and he was happy he could be the cause of his tranquility, but it didn’t make him feel much better. He held Tom close as they pulled away, worried sick.

“I have nowhere else to go,” Tom confirmed firmly, steeling Tord’s gaze with a strong look. “You’re all I’ve got, Edd and Matt’s all I’ve got, and nothing else can change that.” He hugged Tord tightly, needing to depend on him.

Tord sighed, burying his face in the crook of Tom’s warm neck as he scrunched his eyes shut. “I won’t let him touch you, never again,” he swore fiercely, craving to be Tom’s security, his protection. It was only a matter of time, he told himself, before he could he could see him truly happy again. He’d make sure of that. Whatever hurt Tom hurt him, if only he could show Tom how much.

Tom breathed deeply, the corners of his eyes pricking with tears, and he wasn’t sure if they were out of joy or of fear. He was afraid of putting his hopes up, but what other choice did he have? It was either stay with his stepfather and wait for things to worsen or take the chance and run.

When he felt Tord’s fingers run through his hair, Tom offered a small smile at the source of his comfort. He could hardly wait to live under Tord’s roof, safe, shielded, loved.


	4. Scars Are Red, Bruises Are Blue - Poem (Tom/Tord)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is pretty angsty so beware :))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sickkk but i was feeling poetic so here ya go

 

Bruises can hurt, big or small

But the stories behind them can mean a lot

Possessing a meaning, or two, or ten

Laugh it off or cry it away

It’s up to the carrier if he wants it to stay.

He supposed black and blue fit him, after all

Those were the only colors he was familiar with,

The only streaks of hue that he recognized.

Any other shade struck fear in his heart.

 

Blood drips from his arm, long and slow

Crimson flows over his veins, light and cool   
The agony’s unbearable, but somehow he handles it

Endures it

Bears it

Craves it, even

The cause of the river of red is inexplicable

All he knows is that it wasn’t his fault   
Well, not entirely.

The smoke he absorbs, the poison he inhales   
It’s all just a faded memory, a temporary pleasure

Anything to distract him from the pain in his heart.

But soon he’ll snap

  
And unlike bruises, it was easier to hide.   
  
But the man with the bruises could see right through him.   
Like glass, so clear yet so fragile

His silver eyes that dart with uncertain fear

But he tries to cover it with a violent phase

His attempts are futile.

Tom was afraid to interact with another color

Besides black and blue

But he’s tired of the intimidation

Of the isolation

Of the misery

And he wouldn’t dare let someone else carry the same load.

He breaks the window

And he climbs in

Tord expects a raucous yell, an object being flung, maybe even murder

He squeezes his eyes shut, hiding his grey irises

For a precious moment he thinks it’s over

But it’s not.

 

He feels black and blue embrace him

A virtuous freedom from the clouds of ash

Drifting into a sea of violet

And a realization hits him (an epiphany, maybe?)

But he refuses to say it out loud.

He falls limp, finally giving up,

But not in the way he expected.

 

And he loves it.


	5. Intoxicated Eggnog - (Edd/Matt)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edd comes home to a drunken Matt and knows exactly who to blame...  
> Needless to say, he's not happy, but he couldn't stay mad, not around Matt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never tasted eggnog in my entire life but my imagination is enough to leave me craving so ENJOY

 

Edd shivered violently, fumbling with the keys as he struggled to open the door to the house, little bits of snowflakes garnishing his dark chocolate-colored hair like powdered sugar. His breath came out in puffs of frosty mist, each one getting more and more desperate until he finally managed to swing the door open and stumble into the warmth of his home.

He loved winter, but damn could it be cold on a Friday night.

If Edd had the choice he would’ve chosen to stay inside and cuddle on the couch with Matt and watch a movie with his buds, but Tom had insisted that he should go do some “shopping for the house” (he literally just got junk food and Smirnoff, which he bought reluctantly) so he didn’t have to worry about it the next day. At the moment it sounded reasonable, but it would have been smarter if he checked the weather forecast first. Edd was tempted to stay in the supermarket and wait for the blizzard to die down, and was truly surprised he hadn’t gotten frostbite.

“Matt? Tom? Tord?” he called, dumbfounded to see that the house was completely empty and in pitch-black darkness. He had expected to see them hanging out in the living room watching TV or joking around. They couldn’t be sleeping, it was only… “9:14,” he mumbled to himself, checking his watch. They usually stayed up till twelve or one in the morning. Odd.

He flicked on the lights, setting the bags down and putting the snacks and beverages away in the kitchen (and popping open a can of Cola that he bought to treat himself, he deserved it), assuming they were all upstairs planning to pull a prank on him.

“Guys, if you’re trying to pull something just give it up now,” he announced teasingly, taking a sip from his soda can. He began to go upstairs, but paused when he heard a soft moan come from the darkness above. He quirked an eyebrow, recognizing his boyfriend’s vocals, and wondered what he could be doing for him to make such a noise.

_ He probably doesn’t feel well,  _ Edd thought, remembering that he had chugged down a good two gallons of homemade eggnog earlier that day. Apparently moderation wasn’t in Matt’s vocabulary range. Oh well, hopefully he enjoyed it when he could.

“Tom? Tord? Is Matt okay?” he asked, starting to feel a bit uneasy by how eerily  _ silent  _ it was. He was sure he would’ve heard Tom and Tord arguing over something by now. When he got to the last step he saw the lights of the bathroom peeking from under the door, and he sighed in relief.

“Hon, are you alright?” he asked worriedly, pacing to the door slowly, lifting his hand to knock on it - but before he could the door flew open, nearly smacking Edd in the face if he hadn’t reacted right away. He jumped out of instinct and yelped in fear.

The light of the bathroom spilled into the hallway, lighting it up. Matt stood there, coughing as he slumped over his stomach, but he managed to smile at the sight of Edd. “Hey, Edd,” he greeted, his words slurred as they slipped out of his mouth.

Edd clutched onto his chest, breathing hard as he struggled to calm his racing heart. “Jesus, Matt, you scared the shit out of me,” he breathed, trying to laugh it off. “You guys got me good - now where’s Tom and Tord? I haven’t see - “

“Now why does that matter when you’ve got me?” Matt purred with a grin, straightening up his posture as he strides towards Edd. The brunette blushed at the question, backing up when the ginger kept walking towards him until he felt his back meet the wall.

Well, gee. That was new. And kinda hot. “M-Matt, what’s gotten into y - “

The taller Englishman chuckled, leaning closer to Edd’s face with his deep, glazed blue eyes. “Hey, no need to be scared,” he said, eyeing him up and down. “You should take me out for ice cream sometime…” he muttered, his words drawled out as he kissed Edd’s lips - and that was when Edd noticed that something was up.

Although he couldn’t lie and had to admit that under normal circumstances he would have taken things a bit further despite the sudden change of direction, Matt’s previous statement made no sense whatsoever,  and the way he spoke sounded very similar to how Tom sounded after he drank his unhealthy yet daily dose of vodka. Not to mention his lips tasted like eggnog.

And with the way Matt was acting, Edd felt like he had a suspect.

Edd gently pushed Matt away, his face flushed as he held up three fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up?” he asked evenly, just to be sure. When Matt responded with a letter instead of a number, Edd instantly pulled out his phone and dialed Tom’s number.

He responded after three rings. “Yo,” he said casually.

“Did you put alcohol in the eggnog?” Edd accused immediately, irritation clear in his voice.

“Uhh…” He knew he was in deep shit. “It was Tord’s idea - “

“You little shit, no it wasn’t,” he heard another accented voice laugh in the background.

“Matt drank two gallons of that, Tom!” Edd scolded, facepalming and disappointed in himself because he really shouldn’t be all that surprised.

“Hey, I told him not to touch it! I wrote my name on the cartons and everything!” Tom countered defensively, Tord’s guffaws prominently echoing as he spoke.

“Where are you two?” Edd asked, almost demandingly as his concern grew. He held out his free arm so he could push Matt away every time he got antsy or inquisitive. “I thought we were watching a movie with the snacks I bought.”

“Oh, about that,” Tord intruded, and Edd assumed he grabbed Tom’s phone because he heard the Brit’s reluctant “Hey!” in the background, “it seems to me our buddy Thomas had the balls to ask me out on a da - “

“Tord, fuck off!” he growled, although he didn’t deny it, and Tord cracked up. Edd rolled his eyes - he’d heard enough. He wasted his time going to the supermarket in the freezing cold for nothing, and now his boyfriend who had never touched an alcoholic beverage in his life was officially drunk and who knows how this was going to turn out.

“Whatever,  just don’t do anything stupid,” he scoffed, hanging up and inwardly seething. That was probably why Tom had urged Edd to leave in the first place, senseless inconsiderate - 

The ginger must’ve seen the serious expression on Edd’s face, for he looked at him with scared, gleaming eyes. “Am I in trouble?” he squeaked fearfully.

Edd blinked, willing himself to calm down as he put his attention on Matt again. He was unable to deny how cute Matt was despite the fact he was intoxicated. He was definitely going to warn him about messing with another one of Tom’s concoctions, but until then…

“No, you’re not,” he muttered, wrapping an arm around him and helping him to his room. He changed into his pajamas and helped Matt change in his own, and although it was one hell of a hard job he managed to do it (but he had to throw up when he was halfway dressed).

When Matt had finished brushing his teeth, half-assed, Edd made sure he made it to his room without busting his head and bid him goodnight.

“No, you’re leaving me?” Matt whined reluctantly, drilling a hole of guilt in Edd’s soul as he pouted, and he couldn’t help but smile at him.

“Of course not,” he sighed, flicking off the lamp and crawling in bed with him. Matt immediately curled up in Edd’s chest, yawning and hugging the brunette close to him, shivering a bit. Figuring the ginger was cold, he held him closer and pulled the blankets up more, pressing a loving kiss to his forehead.

Matt moaned, the effects of the alcohol wearing off as he shifted uncomfortably, but eventually dozing off in Edd’s embrace. He’d deal with the hangover tomorrow, he decided, and hopefully he would be able to handle it himself.

Good thing Matt had someone like Edd by his side, always more than willing to help out.

But Edd was making sure Tom’s ass was getting whooped when he came back.

Until then, though, Edd would savor the moment he had with Matt now. He relaxed his muscles that had been tense for quite a while, humming contently as  he breathed in Matt’s sweet scent. Matt could be kinda smooth when he was drunk, Edd realized as he remembered the way he’d flirted with him when he found him in the bathroom.

Maybe, just maybe, he’d let Matt drink again, but just a little bit. That’d be interesting.

… 

Stupid eggnog.


	6. Kids These Days - (Paultryck)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patryck and Paul adopt Tord and realize that parenting isn't all laughs and giggles.  
> But they don't regret a second of it, at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive been wanting to write something for this AU for the longest time i 'm happy with how it turned out so hope you enjoy!

 

“Mommy? Daddy? Why’re you still sleeping?”

A small, insistent hand patted Patryck’s cheek until he awoke. He groaned out of exhaustion and irritation at the interruption of his slumber, and he swatted lazily at the air to try and miserably keep his young son at bay. “Tord, Mommy and Daddy are tired, just let us sleep…”

“Please, for five minutes,” a raspy voice beside him begged, a yawn following after as his lover shifted a bit next to him. The adopted Norwegian boy only laughed mischievously and climbed onto the edge of the bed, beginning to jump eagerly for no apparent reason.

Patryck moaned pathetically, clutching onto Paul’s chest as he tried his very best to ignore reality and catch up on his rest, which they were beginning to be very deprived of; He didn’t know how he ended up with the “Mommy role” (maybe the hair had something to do with it, or his graceful nature like Paul had suggested), but all he knew was that  _ it was hard. _

Kids didn’t really need a reason to annoy their parents, did they?

A tired chuckle rumbled from his partner’s throat, and he was slowly drawn into Paul’s arms and received a drowsy kiss on his forehead. “We signed up for this, didn’t we?”

“Mhm,” Patryck mumbled, sitting up a bit and running his fingers through his matted hair - oh God, was that  _ a knot?  _ “This is harder than I thought,” he admitted with a feeble smile, managing to crack his eyes open to gaze at Paul for a precious moment. They didn’t really have as much time for each other like they’d used to, as much as he hated to admit it, but Paul was right-

They had most definitely signed up for this.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Paul agreed, scratching the back of his head while Tord continued to scream and shout and jump off the walls of their room. “I forgot the last time we actually fell asleep together…” He swung an arm around Patrick's shoulder, pulling him in to kiss his cheek. “But we’re in this together, aren’t we?” He grinned.

Patryck giggled softly at that - yep, they were fighting together in a war that they called home, their own adopted son being the enemy base of it all. He actually, really liked the sound of that, as silly as it seemed. “Yeah, and I’m glad to be doing it with you,” he agreed softly, linking his fingers with Paul’s. And he was telling the truth. He was glad to be raising this kid with the love of his life, to have the privilege to watch Paul be a father figure and play the “Mommy role” when he needed to -

Because, well, life had its ups and downs. And all he wanted was his son and his partner to have as many ups as possible. He would love to see Tord grow into something great, someone spectacular and talented and - most of all - loved.

He’d make sure of that.

Paul’s eyes gleamed with affection, and he leaned in to kiss Patryck, but before their lips could meet Tord slipped off the edge of the bed - BAM.

A wail ripped through the walls of the house, and Patryck only sighed while Paul shot up from the bed. “Holy shit, Patryck get the - “

“Way ahead of you,” he muttered wearily, not really surprised as he rolled off the bed and made his way to the bathroom, searching for the first-aid kit. Just another one of the jobs his Mommy role called him for, he supposed.

When he came back, though, Tord had already been cradled in Paul’s arms, his cries dying down to soft whimpers as he rested his head against his father’s protective chest. Patryck stood there, bewildered as Paul looked up at him with a small smile. “He’ll be fine,” he confirmed, “just a little bruise on his knee… “

Patryck shook his head, cooing as he crouched beside Paul and patched up the injury, scolding Tord as he did so while secretly admiring Paul’s comforting skills. When he finished, Tord had already fallen asleep, and he almost gasped with wonder. “Do you know what this means, Paul?” he almost sobbed with happiness, a wide smile stretching across his face.

“Yup,” Paul beamed, instantly crawling back into bed and making sure there was enough space for the people his heart beat for.

 

This was everything he could’ve possibly asked for.


	7. First Impressions - Childhood AU (Tom & Tord)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request from Undauntedlily ♥ ♥
> 
> Tom doesn't trust the new kid, but Tord's planning to change that.  
> It's a lot easier said than done, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was really fun to write and it's a lot longer than I planned but i guess that's a good that lol-  
> Hope you guys enjoy!

**** Edd, Tom, and Matt had all known each other since preschool, which would explain why they held such a close bond despite the indifferences they had. However, Tord didn’t enter the picture until elementary, when he came down from Norway and barely spoke English. Oh, he knew the simple primary basics, like greetings and goodbyes and likes and dislikes - but it wasn’t exactly enough to have an entire conversation with the other little kids, so he prefered to keep to himself in order to prevent humiliation.

Edd, however, still made the effort to befriend him, with little Matt right behind his heels, and Tord was grateful that there was at least two boys who tried to communicate with him with the best of their ability. However, Tom, who was still being recalled to as Tommy, was quite defensive of his only two friends and didn’t trust the transfer student; he would probably make fun of his eyes and hair and his tiny Tommee bear like everyone else did. So he avoided and glared at him whenever he saw Edd or Matt talk to Tord.

His defiance didn’t go unnoticed - Tord amused Tommy’s spite and sneered at the smaller boy whenever he caught him glaring from a distance, and he would purposefully offer Edd and Matt cookies and pretend that he forgot to bring enough for Tommy. Just trivial things like that to piss little Tommy off even more, for his entertainment, he supposed… 

But there was something about Tommy that Tord couldn’t help but be curious about. He often found himself staring at the black-eyed, spiky-haired boy whose parent were simple, inanimate objects with a sort of wonder, maybe even awe - what was it that drove him? Why did he refuse to put his trust in anyone else, why did he counter his anger against Torhadd so?

Tord suddenly had a new mission - to get Tommy to be his friend. It seemed almost pointless, since he refused to take interest in very much, and Tord had never pursued anyone to be his friend anyway, but he guessed that it was because he liked challenges. Yeah, that had to be it. He wanted to challenge himself and prove to everyone that he could do it, he was victorious.

But, it proved to be a lot easier said than done.

His first attempt went horribly wrong, but it was an accident. It was Show-and-Tell day, which meant that every kid had to bring something interesting to present to the class, simple enough. Edd brought in a painting of his cat Ringo, Matt brought a mirror, and Tommy brought in his prized bass, whom he called Susan. Tord, however, brought something a bit more, well, dangerous.

 

Okay, now he admits that bringing a gun to school was a stupid, idiotic idea, but what could he say? He was a kid. And everyone thought guns were cool.

It started off surprisingly well, too. He walked up to the front of the classroom, pulled out a pistol from his hoodie pocket, and everyone released a collective gasp. While all the little kids seemed reasonably terrified, Tommy’s eyes were wide with admiration and he slumped over his desk to take a better look at the gun.

Tord would have probably succeeded in impressing Tom if he hadn’t accidentally shot him in the arm.

“Shoot something!” the child blurted immediately, his smile wide as he urged Tord to “do something cool” with it - and Tord grinned and turned off the safety.

“Okay,” he said eagerly, but his finger slipped over the trigger and two bloodcurdling sounds occured right after - a gunshot and a loud, painful scream.

Oops.

Needless to say, Tord got suspended for two weeks and Tom was out of school for almost a month, receiving “Get Well” cards and refusing to smile once as he recovered. Tord and his dads went to visit Tommy at the hospital so he could apologize, but as soon as the injured boy laid eyes on the Norwegian he threw his cup of water at him, with ice and all.

It was code for “fuck off,” since he wasn’t allowed to verbally curse at the time.

When he came back, he gave Tord another harsh glare (that he had to admit he kinda missed) and shuffled to his seat, his arm wrapped in thick, white bandages. It only had two named scribbled on it, one in green and one in purple - Edd and Matt. Although Tord was mad at himself for getting Tommy mad at him, he wanted to see his name on them too - in red. That was a cool color.

The next few attempts to get Tommy to forgive him were admittedly futile. He offered Tommy a Nutter Butter cookie, but turns out he was allergic to peanuts and that didn’t turn out so well. He tried talking to him with either Matt or Edd by his side, but that didn’t make much of a difference either - he’d give his full attention to the other kid and refuse to acknowledge the Norwegian. Now Tord had another mission - to prove that he wasn’t a quitter.

One day, Tord didn’t show up to school. Edd and Matt figured he was probably sick, or overslept, but Tommy couldn’t care less. However, when he thought that he was finally going to have a day free from having to see him, one of his two dads showed up.

“Tord couldn’t make it to school today, he broke his leg yesterday… “ he overheard him say to the teacher - but what really caught his attention was the small box he carried in his hands. “But he wanted to give this to Tommy, so I figured I’d just drop it off… “

The man then walked up to Tommy, kneeling down so he could see eye-to-eye with him. He smiled softly and handed the box to the boy - it had chocolate chip cookies, not peanut butter, and bass stickers shaped like skulls and rock CDs. “Tord’s really sorry for hurting you, but he’s a good kid, trust me,” the dad said kindly, getting up and bidding the teacher goodbye before leaving.

No one had ever gotten him anything like this, he was speechless.

“This… is  _ awesome _ !” he squeaked happily, hugging his newfound possessions.

Tommy was simply overjoyed to see the gift basket bestowed to him, but he couldn’t thank anyone. Tord wasn’t there.

But now he wasn’t sure if, once he saw him, he should thank him or apologize.

 

A few days later, Tord showed up with crutches and a cast on his leg, his expression grim as he slowly hopped his way everywhere he went, his gaze constantly on the ground as his cheeks grew hot with shame. Karma must’ve gotten his ass good, but Edd and Matt still tried cheering him up even though he was going to be confined to limping for a good six weeks at most.

That was probably the least of Tord’s problems, though. Eduardo and his friends thought it would be funny to make fun of Tord during recess - little did he know was that whoever acquainted themselves with Edd was going to get the same treatment as him as well. Whoopie.

They would take his crutches whenever he sat down and put them somewhere far away, so he’d either have to limp over to get them or ask someone to get them for him. They laughed at his accent, bullied him for his horn-shaped hair and unnaturally grey eyes.

“Devil Boy,” they would call him, and for the most part it pissed him off, but at one point he was starting to get pretty close to tears. He hadn’t moved to New England for this mess, he wanted a better life and all he did was mess up someone else’s and made his worse.

Tom noticed his torment one day and decided that he’d had enough. Both Edd and Matt were absent from school that day, but that didn’t stop him from leaving Eduardo a nice little threat to wax off his peach fuzz that he called a moustache in his sleep if he didn’t leave Tord alone.

Tommy was shy by nature, but he could be a nightmare.

Tord sat there, his jaw dropped, bewildered as he watched someone defend him  _ for the first time in his life,  _ and that someone being the boy he shot shocked him even more.

As the pair watched the humiliated and frightened Eduardo cower away, Tom handed Tord a red marker without a word. Their eyes met, silver meeting black, and Tord finally saw the door that had been opened to him.

He signed his name on Tom’s cast with a smile, leaned against Tom for support, and they made their way back to the classroom.

No words were exchanged, no “thank you” or “you’re welcome” or “I’m sorry” or “it’s okay.”

They didn’t have to. Sometimes actions spoke louder than words ever could.


	8. One-Sided Equations - Poem (Edd/Matt)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edd really, really admired Matt.  
> Too bad Matt barely notices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Matt's an oblivious guy tbh

Matt was a puzzle to him,

Someone to marvel over as he gawked in mere silence.

What a confident smile,

His teeth twinking as he flashes a sneer

His eyes gleaming whenever he shot a wink

At whoever laid his eyes upon his treasure grove of beauty.

Oh, if only he held that look for him,

And only for him.

How did he do it?

Edd wanted - no, he  _ needed  _ to know

How Matt could balance his innocence and suggestive nature so well

Perfectly, even, once you looked past the flaws

Clumsiness

Egoistic habits

And the IQ of a kitchen shelf

But Matt was Matt, and Edd was Edd

Edd wanted Matt, with no real explanation

But it just didn’t fit the equation

Of course, he could try

But the answer would just come out messy,

A jumble of potential prospects mashed into one reply

That matched very well 

With how Edd felt.

Cola popped on his tongue, his throat, his stomach

His pencil raced across the canvas

With his name engraved in his heart all the while

While he just stood before his mirror

Letting cameras flash

Allowing himself to be blinded

He knew it was pointless, but he still tried

That was admirable, but it would never be noticed

At least not by the one whose attention he craved the most,

Whose attention he’d never have for himself.


	9. Far Too Late - (Tom/Tord)(Future AU at the end)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tord leaves Tom without telling him the truth -  
> It was probably the worst decision he ever made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a prompt given to me by Undauntedlily's bf, hope you guys enjoy!

 

“I’m leaving.”

That was all it took. Two words was all it took to start a war that obliterated their worlds, the future they had been planning together in serenity.

It was no surprise it was Tord’s doing.

“Oh… Okay.”  _ That was it?  _ Tord had made it seem like such a big deal, the way his grey eyes darted in fear when Tom struggled to meet his gaze and the constant shifting of his feet like he was tempted to run for it. Perhaps it was just a vacation, Tord probably needed it - he seemed really stressed for the past two weeks without any obvious or profound reasoning. “Where’re you going?”

He hesitated, his teeth clenching tightly as his mind scrambled for a proper answer without shattering Tom to pieces, but it was impossible. He was just so - so  _ fragile.  _ He didn’t want to do this, his mind and heart fought violently for domination and logic won the battle, but either way the damage had been done. He’d been torn completely in half.

“To Norway… ”

Tom grew worried as he held himself in his arms, shivering a bit from the chill that had strolled in the room. “For how long?” he asked evenly, growing unsettled. Something was wrong. Tord looked too grave. And to think, after he fretted for countless days that he’d be the one to drop the bomb, it was Tord who’d decided to ruin his hopes.

“I’m not coming back.”

Tom would never forget how it felt, to feel his heart turn to stone and drop heavily in his stomach as he searched in Tord’s eyes for some sort of reassurance. He couldn’t see the typical, customary humor or stabilized interest dance in his gaze like he usually could. “What? Why?”

He despised himself for letting his voice crack on the last word.

And that was how it began. They started off slow, Tord trying to present a decent explanation that he was pursuing his dream while Tom insisted that he could simply do it here, that he didn’t have to go and -  _ God forbid _ \- leave Tom behind. But as time went on and their dire attempts only increased in desperation, their reasoning blazed into a heated argument over who was right and who was wrong, yelling and shouting left and right until they forgot what they were fighting for. Both of them seethed, bringing up points that held no relevance for the topic at hand to avoid the sensitive spot that needed to be looked over.

And in the end, when Tord finally gave up and stormed out, Tom spat, muttering “good riddance” as he slammed the door shut. So what if Tord thought he was better than everyone else? He didn’t need him, he’d be better off alone rather than pending his options on someone he had no chances with anyway, despite all the hints and pieces Tord had dropped and teased… 

Until he broke. He leaned against the wall, covering his eyes as his face burned with shame, although no one was present in the house, and his slided to the floor with a sob. The tower of hopes he’d been building, so high and mighty and dedicated to  _ him _ , crashed down in an oblivion with Tom in the middle of the rubble.

It wasn’t fair. How could he make it seem like he cared for Tom and then do  _ this? _

No good would come out of this.

And he’d never know that, even after Tord stomped to his car and muttered curses in his Norwegian tongue until he got the car started, tears blinded his vision until he finally let them go.

He’d been more than ready to indulge in his selfish pleasures, but was it worth it? Worth  _ this _ ?

Because, when the heat of their disputes and clashes died down to a dull and cool ambiance, he’d forgotten that he wanted to tell him the truth he’d struggled to confess from the start.

 

When he bid his friends goodbye, he tried to say sorry. But Tom had already hardened himself in a cocoon of recluse, only glaring at him until he got the hint.

But Tord didn’t want to leave him, not like this. What kind of assurance could he leave him? He’d always assured him before. “Tom, I… “ He reached out to the Englishman, the veracity burning his throat and threatening to burst in the air, and Tom saw a glimpse of the thoughtful and considerate man he used to cherish so much in his heart as he gave his last chance, but -

_ Say it, say it, say it! _

Fuck. He couldn’t do it. “I’ll miss you,” he sighed in defeat, walking to his car and driving away one last time. Maybe he’d get to say it, one day they’d see each other again, maybe even sooner than either of them thought… 

He made sure he didn’t look back.

 

Tord poised himself calmly in front of his traitor, his gun directed to his former friend as Tom snarled in response, gripping onto his gunshot wound that dripped blood freely in a steady flow. He wasn’t as delicate as Tord had suspected, he realized, as he compared this man to the one he had associated with a few years back. He’d underestimated him.

_ What a shame,  _ he thought as he stepped closer to the injured man, his hand shaking.

He could’ve called one of his soldiers to do this. Why was he doing it?

His duty called him to do this. It wasn’t his decision. This wasn’t his fault.

This wasn’t what he wanted… Was it? Power, notoriety, control… Everything he could’ve asked for, right?

“Do it,” Tom hissed, looking up at Tord, and all his expression read was pain and anger and strife. “Isn’t this what you fucking wanted?”

Tord gulped, keeping his expression placid but inside he was screaming. He’d seen that look before, when he left Tom behind, and it was all coming back like a flood that brought everything else with it. Would he have done things differently, if he knew this was how it was going to end?

… If he’d told him he’d loved him when he left, they could have found a way, right?

Tord shook his head, taking a deep breath as his finger rested lightly over the trigger.

He would take him out of his misery, it was the very least he could do - at least that what was he told himself. Even though he was the one to put him through this hell.

“No,” he said simply, his voice lowered a good few octaves compared to his normally prideful tone as he met Tom’s gaze, one last time, but it was empty. “It wasn’t.”

And he squeezed his eyes shut as did his dirty deed, a realization hitting him far too late -

_ I found out too late that I should've told you I love you sooner. _


	10. Betrayal - (Tom/Tord)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom discovers Tord's been cheating on him, and decides that enough is enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayy this is the first fic in this collection of oneshots that's sad i think?? so beware
> 
> Also I'm working on a request for SoulofKindness (it's almost done) that turned out to be waaaay longer than I planned so I just posted this to occupy you guys in the meantime :)

Tom’s whole world was falling apart.

Well, for a long time he’d been trying to deny the inevitable, hoping and praying it was just a phase in their relationship, that the worst of the tempest would pass -

But it only got worse. He let it get worse, and it left a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He wanted to throw up.

Could all of this have been preventable? All the fights and problems they were having? Was it something he did?

… Was it all his doing? It wasn’t his fault… Was it?

“No,” he answered his own question, clenching his teeth in a sudden fury as he clutched the foreign piece of filthy cloth in his hand, his grip so strong his knuckles turned white. He was tired of blaming himself for Tord’s behavior. Tom couldn’t help it if he was sensitive, if he was fearful or scared or worried about the most trivial of things -

Maybe Tord needed someone stronger. Maybe that was why he did this.

But why would he decide to date Tom if he knew how  _ weak _ he was? How  _ pathetic _ of a state he was in? He chose to stick himself with Tom, didn’t he? So  _ why did he do this to him now? _

The doorknob clicked, and Tom froze. He knew it was him. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to confront him, but he was terrified of how he’d react. Would he turn to violence? It was definitely a possibility, he’d done it before… 

Tom steeled himself, sitting up straight. No, he wouldn’t let this slide anymore, Tord was mature and he’d been far too lenient. Tord walked in calmly, unaware of Tom’s presence until his gaze eventually landed on him, and he flinched. Their gazes met, Tord’s eyes wide and Tom’s filled with hurt.

Tom gulped - his silence proved it all, and he hated that the worst of his fears could actually be true. “What the fuck is  _ this _ ,” he asked angrily, “doing in  _ our room _ ?”

Tord still stood there, speechless. “Don’t talk to me like that,” he ordered quietly, venom dripping from his voice as he glared at the Brit, but all his expression read was panic.

Tom gaped at the man before him before standing up, but he was shaking. “Tord,” he growled, tears dripping shamelessly down his face. “Whose panties does this belong to?!”

“Tom, I can explai - “

“Shut up, Commie,” he spat, tossing the underwear to the side as he pointed at the Norwegian, blinded with rage. “How long has this been going on? Why - how could you - “

“Tom, wait, let me talk… “ his arm reached out to touch his partner, but Tom only jumped away from his hand, frightened and vexed.

“I thought you loved me,” Tom whimpered, holding himself in his arms as he backed himself up against the wall, feeling every last nerve he held onto fall apart. “How long has this been going on?”  Tom had truly thought he had Tord’s trust, he’d promised him he was the only one who had his heart - Was he so bad that Tord felt the need to go around sleeping with someone else?

Tord began to grow desperate, slowly inching towards the shorter man with a flurry of confused emotions. He couldn’t deny the evidence he’d foolishly left, or he’d look even more of a fool than he already was. “I-I didn’t know what I was thinking,” he stuttered, reaching out for him again.

“Don’t touch me,” he ordered instantly, smacking the hand away as he breathed hard, struggling to calm himself down. “You fucking cheated on me, you asshole! You mean to tell me that you were totally clueless while you were screwing around? What if I got a disease from whoever you’ve been lying with?”

Tom only grew more and more horrified by the second, his thoughts traveling to more foreign and alarming possibilities. He couldn’t imagine his boyfriend, the only person he’d ever love to extend like this, having sex - kissing, touching, holding - with anyone other than himself.

And right now, he hated him.

“Tom, I love you, I’m sorry,” he insisted quietly, needily, and if they weren’t pressured under this situation Tom would’ve believed him. He just wanted Tord to hug him in his arms and whisper sweet things in his ear, that everything would be okay, that they’d go through this like he’d been telling him ever since they left from their former home… 

“I… I can’t do this,” he managed to choke, pushing past Tord and making his way to the door, needing to clear his mind. The room had gotten stuffy, he felt cramped up in that room where Tord and some slutty chick had probably screwed, all he needed was space and fresh air and -

He felt Tord’s hand touch his wrist, and he grew rigid in his spot. “Please, don’t leave,” his voice begged softly, and his grip was gentle, not tight and brutal like he’d expected.

And for a moment, Tom considered staying. He remembered how good it felt when he was under Tord’s touch, how soft his fingers were when they grazed across his skin, how his lips would comfort him when he was bothered - how could he leave that?

He’d given up so much for him, just so he could be cheated on.

He had nowhere else to go but  _ here.  _ And he despised himself for it.

“Let me go,” he ordered evenly, pulling away from him, and Tord unwillingly loosened his grip, Tord would not portray himself to be the victim. “Because I’m obviously not enough for you.”

Their eyes met once more, black meeting ash, and a tense, silent atmosphere settled between the two of them.

And he left.


	11. Nostalgic Wars - (Tord/Edd) Future AU Prompt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before Tord is unexpectedly assassinated, he gives Edd an offer he can't refuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *WHEEZE* This is waaaay longer than I planned it to be but it was fun writing it!  
> This is one of the prompts SoulofKindness gave me, thanks fam u lit
> 
> Note: This isn't really romantic it's more like a frenemy thing ig?? But anyways hope you guys enjoy!

 

Tord didn’t let the loss of his right arm and sight of his eye stop him from rising to power.

It took him a good two years to get his arm replacement figured out and accept the fact that there was no hope for his right eye, but as soon as his limb had a new and improved upgrade and was declared ready for action, he wasted no time. He pulled together his army and instantly thought up of new strategies, ones that were sure to be successful, since he’d learned from his previous failure that direct force wouldn’t work.

And sure enough, most of New England began falling under his rule, a bit too quickly for Edd’s comfort. He thought Tord was long gone after his first attempt to take over the world, but his recognition grew rapidly due to his infamous battles and wars and bloodshed.

But Tord felt like he was missing something - or rather, someone.

He had Patryck and Paul as his two most trusted men in his ranks, but he didn’t have a second-in-command, someone to take his place in case something were to happen to him. The two previously mentioned names had turned down his offer, which he’d understood completely - they already had enough on their plates, taking orders and leading soldiers and flying air forces. They had lives outside the base too, after all. Tord’s life was entirely dedicated to what he’d created. He needed someone who was willing to do the same.

Then an idea came to him. He knew Edd had started his own organization to bring the Red Leader down. It was overall pestering, to say the least - Edd really thought he could throw Tord out of his glory with such a small group compared to his army?

But it was also… admirable, in a way. He’d seen Edd in action before. He knew how to fight - something he didn’t really know how to do before. Tord was sure it took him endless amounts of effort to get people to join him, to plan out ambushes that didn’t always go through… 

What if he convinced Edd to join him?

He smirked to himself at the thought as he leaned against the cool, concrete wall of the abandoned building. It was a longshot, he admitted, but imagine the irony of the situation if his former friend agreed to the terms he had to offer. It would be perfect, one of his more personally greatest accomplishments yet. But it would also be difficult to convince him.

Edd may have been gullible back then, but what about now?

Tord took a deep breath of the silent night, closing his left eye in consideration. He’d invited Tom too, in case Edd didn’t work out, but he doubted the man would want to join him anyway. So he pinned mostly on Edd, a tiny nostalgic feeling nipping at his chest.

` Tord sighed. He wondered… what it would be like to see Edd again, face to face after so long. He was interesting to talk to back then - it was intriguing, how Edd saw past Tord’s flaws and saw him as a person nonetheless, despite the evils and wrongs he’d done. Could he somehow bring those memories back, through this petition he would propose?

Tord furrowed his eyebrows, shoving his thoughts to the very back of his mind. Such immature thinking wasn’t acceptable in the mind of a leader. He told himself that their childish yet seemingly inseparable bond had been broken years ago. This was only about business, leave the personal issues for someone else to worry about.

Edd walked through the isolated streets, a grimace prominent on his stubbled jaw. Tord - no, Red Leader - had said to meet him around here, or at least that was what the message said. What was he planning? Was this a trap to get him killed? He wouldn’t be surprised if he felt a sudden force of a burn in his chest, or in any other area of his body, so he braced himself for any possible threat.

“Are you lost… old friend?” The voice was all too familiar, breaking the silence, and although he spoke gently the area was so quiet it sounded like he spoke louder than the average speech.

Edd shook. He swore his heart leaped in his throat. He tried his very best not to show his fear, but it proved to be difficult - this wasn’t Tord he was facing anymore, this was  _ Red Leader,  _ the one whose empire was growing rapidly and mercilessly killed whoever was in his way.

So it was kind of a shock that Edd wasn’t dead, at least not yet.

He saw Tord, well dressed in his uniform and his posture slouched a bit, leaning against the wall and drilling a stare into Edd’s eyes, a smirk etched on his face. Edd kept his frown serious, walking towards him with his footsteps echoing into the darkness.

“Where’s Tom?” he asked, shoving any type of idle chat to the side. He had a gun shoved in his coat pocket in case Tord tried pulling any moves on him. He may have been his friend at a time, but no one knew who was capable of what at this point, especially when it came to the one who was taking over the world without much effort.

“Relax, keep the cola in your pockets,” Tord merely teased, and irritation welled in Edd’s stomach. Tord never took much seriously, but he knew this was but an introduction for something bigger. He steadied himself a few feet away from Tord, wary. “He hasn’t showed up, as far as I’m concerned…”

“That so?” Edd grunted, sucking his teeth. He would have felt more comfortable with Tom nearby, it would have made him feel more secure. At least he hadn’t betrayed his trust. “Does that mean we have to wait for him to come so we can start this meeting?”

“No, that won’t be necessary,” Tord straightened his back and began to pace around the cautious Edd, who immediately stiffened around Red Leader’s closeness, but he forced himself to keep his cool. This was Tord, after all… he wouldn’t kill his ex-best friend and housemate even after their rivalry now, would he? “How have you been, Edd? It’s been awhile…”

“I would’ve been better if my homeland wasn’t falling to ruins,” Edd responded blankly, keeping his gaze straight ahead as Tord prowled around him. He wouldn’t fall into his games. “Cut to the chase. What did you want from us?”

“My my, you’re not the same Edd I used to know,” Tord purred, his hands behind his back as he observed the darkly veiled man. “And I thought you liked small talk…”

Edd’s jaw clenched, exasperated. “I didn’t come here to waste time. I should have killed you by now,” he added bitterly, already feeling like a traitor to the revolution he’d organized to stop Tord. When did he become so… so  _ heartless?  _ How could he have such thoughts towards the person he used to care so much for?

It was crazy, what war could do to a person.

“Oh, is that so?” Tord’s grin widened as he stopped in his tracks, stancing himself near Edd, close enough to see the sweat run down his brow despite the low temperature of the night. “Tell me why.”

His voice was so soft, as if he were talking to a damn child or something. Edd knew he had made a bold move with the statement -  _ I should have killed you by now.  _ How could he have been so reckless, to let something so bold slip out his mouth?

“What you’re doing is wrong,” Edd grunted, meeting Tord’s gaze with a glare. Did he really have to explain that, to the person who made their home become a fucking wasteland?

“Oh… and having the urge to kill me isn’t?” Tord smiled.

“It’s nothing compared to the shit you’re doing.”

His declaration came naturally and bravely, but inside he shuddered. He was going to get himself killed for this. He was going to be reduced to dust, just another person to fall in the hands of the Red Leader, who’d been terrorizing civilians and innocent beings for far too long. God, he was so ready to give up, the pressure was so heavy on his shoulders… 

But, no. He had to keep going. If no one else was planning on saving New England, he would.

However, Tord laughed off Edd’s spite. Edd’s eyebrows quirked in confusion. Why was he taking this so lightly? What was the purpose of all this? To scare him?

“You’ve changed, Edd,” he sighed, still smiling as he looked Edd up and down anomalously. Edd blinked, casting his eyes to the ground. He knows he did, and not for the better. He couldn’t say Tord changed too, because, well, he  _ didn’t.  _ He’d always been like this, corrupt and sadistic - he just waited for the right time to let the worst of it show.

Due to Edd’s lack of a response, Tord filled in his silence, figuring now was probably the time to break it to him before Edd got too uncomfortable and shot him. He knew he had a gun in his pocket, he wasn’t that careless to come empty-handed. He was doing good with this encounter so far, Tord was impressed.

“But change isn’t always a bad thing, at least not in your case,” Tord continued, leaning against the wall again and keeping his stare on Edd. “And I’d like to put your changes to use.”

Edd’s interest piqued, but his suspicion only grew with it. “What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s a shame to see your newfound talents go to waste in this silly group you call a revolution against me and my army,” Tord chuckled, “so I’d like to do something about it.”

Edd’s cheekbone twitched. “Where’re you going with this?”

Tord smiled as he focused his attention on Edd’s expression. He’d mnaged to rile Edd up and he hadn’t even gotten to his offer yet. This ought to be fun. “Join me,” he said simply, accompanied with a small shrug. “Forget about your pathetic attempts to stop me and join the side that we both know will win this war.”

Edd’s blood went cold, seeing in the Norwegian’s expression that he was dead serious. Did he hear that correctly? Did he lose his hearing along with his sanity when the war started? “What?”

“Think about it, Edd,” Tord insisted, locking his left eye on the man before him, and for the first time for this entire meeting he wasn’t smiling. “No one is resisting the inevitable but  _ you.  _ Your forces can’t do anything but tease my army, Edd… but if you were to give it up and join me, you’d have the whole world in the palm of your hand.”

Edd blinked, his breaths getting heavier as his stomach dropped. “Are you fucking crazy? My men and I are perfectly capable of -”

“Nothing,” Tord finished, interrupting him, and his hand landed softly on Edd’s shoulder. “I admire your persistence, but this is hopeless. Just give up before you get yourself killed. And I’d hate to be the cause of your death, old friend.”

Edd remained silent, a chill running through his body.  _ Just shoot him, _ he mind told him,  _ shoot him and all of this will be over. The gun’s in your pocket he’s right in front of you save your goddamn country do it for Matt do it for Tom shoot him SHOOT HIM! _

But… Tord was right. Edd had been so focused on saving the world and planning Tord’s defeat that he hadn’t realized that… 

They really didn’t have much of a chance of actually succeeding. But if he joined Tord… then he’d actually have a concrete assurance, right?

“I…” Edd hesitated, his throat burning, his voice raspy, “It would be wrong of me to… to do something so naive… ” He wasn’t actually considering this, was he? The idea was absurd, wasn’t it?

But suddenly, something in the corner of Edd’s eye caught his attention, and his head snapped to look at whatever had distracted him. A shadowed figure was poised on a rooftop behind Red Leader, and it seemed to hold something that aimed directly toward -

“Tord!” Edd yelled, but the warning was too late.

It all happened in a matter of a few seconds.

Gunshots rang through the night, echoing in Edd’s ears that shook him to the point where he felt shivers run through his bones, even though he’d been surrounded by the sounds of war for years. A flash of light almost blinded him, and he swore he saw his whole life flash before his eyes in an instant -

Next thing he knew, he saw the high and mighty Red Leader crumple to the ground with a groan.

Before Edd could process what the fuck just happened, another loud bang broke the sound barrier, and he instinctively shut his eyes as he expected death to hit him like a brick -

But he felt… fine. No pain, no raging fires in his chest or head or anywhere else in his body.

Edd took his chance to look around the area, his own pistol gripped in his hand. “Who’s there? Show yourse-”

“Edd, it’s me.”

The man blinked, turning to the voice and recognizing Tom. He held a weapon with a faint wisp of smoke rising from the nozzle, and Edd tried fitting the pieces together but he was just so relieved and surprised and worried all at once that all he could do was just stand there, his eyes wide and jaw dropped.

Tom walked over to him quickly, waving his hand in front of his eyes. “Edd, Tom to Edd. Are you alright?” Edd had probably gone into shock.

Edd  stood like a stuatue until he finally blinked, flinching at Tom’s appearance. “T-Tom?”

“Yeah, it’s me -”

“Jesus Christ, where have you been?” he almost sounded angry, but he finally regained enough consciousness to pull his friend into a hug, relieved that he wasn’t alone with Red Leader, who’d started to really mess with his nerves -

“Edd, I’m glad to see you too but now isn’t the time,” Tom said rather quickly, tugging away from him, “the communist bastard just got shot.”

Edd blinked, looking at Tom in disbelief before looking around for said communist, finding him lying on the ground and groaning in pain. He stood there, speechless while Tom explained to him that it was an assassin or something who shot him and the second gunshot Edd heard came from Tom, who had killed him before he could kill Edd too, but none of that really processed in Edd’s head as he watched his former friend bleed in horror.

“Tord,” he gasped his name, leaving Tom the option to follow him as he bolted to the crumpled body, scooping the man in his arms. Why was he feeling like this? Why was he concerned for the one who’d brought their home to ruins?

Tord only coughed in response, blood oozing out of his mouth and dripping onto the concrete ground. Edd shuddered - he got hit in the lung, and wherever the other bullets hit. Tom slowly paced to the scene, silent as he looked genuinely upset. “It looks fatal.”

“No fucking shit,” Edd muttered under his breath, trying to get Tord to talk to him.

Tord continued his rage of coughs, shuddering as Edd held him up while he could do nothing but sit there and watch him fade away. “E-Edd,” the Red Leader managed to breath in between coughs.

Edd listened intently to what he had to say, but tears had started to sting his eyes. Everything they’d done… led up to this? Shouldn’t he be glad that Tord was dying? Why the hell was he about to cry?

“You… You’ve done well, soldier,” he chuckled dryly, beginning to heave in a desperate attempt to get some air in his shredded lungs. He gripped onto Edd’s collar, his silver eye meeting Edd’s fiercely. “Th-think about what I s-said… or all of this will be for nothing.”

Edd gulped, finally letting the liquid drip onto his cheeks. He only nodded curtly at his words, and he wasn’t sure if he really meant it or if he only did it to grant Tord’s last wish.

He may have ruined their lives, but at one point he was a friend.

Edd remembered Tord’s laugh, his accent, the talks they shared, the memories they had… and he realized that he would never experience such lighthearted moments again.

Tom placed a gentle hand on Edd’s shoulder, but Edd refused to break down. The tears were enough. Nostalgia would be useless in a war.

Edd held the man in his arms, maybe as a way of comfort in his last moments, and when he saw the life leave Tord’s eye and he finally relaxed in his embrace, Tom and Edd knew he was gone.

Edd sighed, lying the body down as he got up, standing beside Tom, who rubbed his back as a way to soothe him. “It’s over,” Tom said.

The coated man cleared his throat, staring at his rival’s corpse, knowing that Tord would never be forgotten - he would always be known as Red Leader, the one who brought all the havoc upon England, and his name would be etched in history forever.

… Maybe that was why he did all this, Edd realized, so he wouldn’t be just another person on this wasteland they called Earth. Just another body to be buried, another being to be forgotten years from now… perhaps Edd would follow this fate, unless he did something worth remembering… 

Then Tord’s offer rang in his ears.  _ Join me.  _ He wanted Edd to be his confidant, right?

Tom looked at Edd, confused. Edd didn’t look sad anymore, more like… thoughtful. “Edd?”

Edd’s mind was a mile away. That would be selfish of him, to leave his revolution behind after everything they worked on… but if he told them to join Tord’s army… 

Edd made a decision as he straightened his posture, dropping down to Red Leader’s corpse and plucking the badge he was so proud of, that announced his rank louder than words ever could.

Tom started to feel unsettled. This wasn’t like him. “Edd, what’s wrong?”

Edd’s thoughts was in the future, so many possibilities flowing in his mind as he made up his mind. It was too late for England to get back on its feet anyway. He’d be doing it a favor. He’d be doing himself a favor. He’d be doing Tord a favor. He’d be doing everyone a favor.

A light breeze passed by, and darkness flowed Edd’s veins as his senses went with it.

He wouldn’t be on the loser’s side anymore.

He wouldn’t be Edd anymore, either. He would follow in Tord’s footsteps.

He would be the Green Leader.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda rushed at the end tbh but-


	12. Farewell - (After "The End" AU) PART 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death is near Tord's door after he makes a tragic mistake with his giant robot.  
> But despite everything he's done, his friends muster up the courage to bid him farewell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS PROBABLY THE MOST ANGSTIEST FIC OUT OF THIS ENTIRE COLLECTION SO B E W A R E  
> (unless that was what you came for)
> 
> Another prompt given by SoulofKindess, I couldn't resist-  
> Anyways hope you guys enjoy!

Patryk sighed with a grimace as he rested his hand lightly against Tord’s forehead, on the side that hadn’t been scorched off by the explosion of his invention. The Norwegian released a soft noise of pain as he stirred a little in his sleep, his eyes scrunched tightly as his teeth clenched, sweat dripping down the side of his head. The corner of Patryk’s mouth twitches as he holds his breath, barely moving a muscle until he allows his gentle fingers to stroke Tord’s matted hair that had began to cling to his forehead.

Paul watched the man from across the room with a frown. He’d seen that expression on Patryk before. It was when he knew a soldier was about to die. He’d made that face when he thought Paul wasn’t going to make it in that zombie apocalypse.

That look… was horrifying. No one ever wanted to see that look. It offered nothing but the comfort of knowing that your pain was going to die off soon.

Paul popped his knuckles, contemplating the situation at hand as he almost asked Patryk of their leader’s condition, but decided against it, for two reasons:

1.) He knew Patryk was going to tell him eventually, and

2.) He already knew what Tord’s fate was going to be anyways.

Which was really fucking depressing, to say the least.

“He’s getting worse,” Patryk said finally, like Paul had assumed. His grimace only deepened as his gaze met Paul’s, and he gently squeezed Tord’s unresponsive hand. “His fever’s getting higher, the infection in his arm’s only gotten worse and he’s only been able to stay conscious for short periods of time…”

Paul took a deep breath, nodding as he let the words sink in. He rubbed his temples as he closed his eyes, unable to keep his sight on Tord’s collapsing body. The silence only made the room feel… _heavier_. But as long Tord was alive, he’d make it, right?

But then, Patryk added something to his report that almost made it seem like he read Paul’s mind.

“Paul… I don’t think…  he’s going to make it.”

Tears fell freely from Patryk’s eyes, and he balled his hand in a fist as he held it up to his lips in an attempt to hold back a sob.

He’d never done this show for any other soldier, but this was Tord they were talking about. They trained and cared for this man like he was their fucking son. He grew with them, learned from them, laughed with them - and now he was dying.

Paul gulped, shaking his head, and he finally unleashed his fury on a nearby chair as he kicked it with enough force to toss it across the room.

No. This couldn’t be happening.

Paul cursed under his breath, pacing around the room in a useless attempt to calm himself down. What was he supposed to say to that? There had to be another way out of this, right? Tord had found his way through everything else… so why would he let a little infection wear him down to the point of death?

This could have been prevented if they had gotten Tord to a fucking hospital, but thanks to them being undercover they couldn't do anything but give him some antibiotics and rest.

_How the hell was that going to help someone that was in an exploding giant robot?_

Patryk released a shaky breath, covering his face with his hand in shame. “He doesn’t look like he has much time left, I don’t want him to leave in such a horrible atmosphere…”

The man paced to Patryk and took the seat beside him, trying not to break down himself as he brushed the tears off his partner’s face. He needed to be strong, the pillar that held them both, _all three of them,_ together. “Me neither,” he agreed with a mutter, knowing his voice would betray him if he spoke any louder. It was the first time he spoke that entire morning.

There was no fighting it, he supposed as he forced himself to look at Tord’s arm, utterly destroyed of all its senses and movement. How could anyone survive that? How could they have the nerve to raise their hopes up and do this to him? To themselves?

Now he was going to die, cold and hopeless and with no one but his two soldiers that he considered his family -

...Wait. An idea rose in Paul’s head. “Do you have… his phone?”

Patryk looked at him, puzzled and unaware of his intentions to such a sudden question, especially under these circumstances. “Yes, it should be in the cubby over there… why?”

Paul’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration, before making a decision.

“We need to get his friends over here.”

 

. . .

 

“Hey, is this, uh… Edd?”

A gruff, male voice asked for him when he picked up the phone, and needless to say he was confused. The brunette had been sitting calmly in the comfort of his new home, a mostly-empty can of cola in his hand as he flipped through the channels like everything was okay, three days after Tord’s failure with the giant red contraption of metal garbage. Which he prefered to forget, or even more preferably, not to remember.

He wondered who the voice could have belonged to, and for a moment he hesitated before answering. He’d just gotten a new phone yesterday, and the only people he’d given his new number to was Tom, Matt, and Tord when he came back (since a crowd of fans began to bombard him with calls when someone _some_ how found his number and posted it on social media), so this new voice was kind of a mystery to him. “Yes…?” he replied, unsure of what do say or do. “Who’s this?”

The person on the other line cleared his throat, and he heard him mumble something but he couldn’t make it out - it almost sounded like he was speaking in another language, but then again, Edd was kind of spaced out at the moment, so it wasn’t like he was paying much attention. The person kept speaking quietly, sounding like he was talking to someone else, and Edd began to grow a bit uneasy.

“Hello?” he said, just to make sure that whoever the voice belonged to didn’t forget about him. If this person didn’t reply within the next few milliseconds he was going to hang up. Stupid scammers with their stupid scams. “I swear, If this is the viagra company who keeps trying to advertise their shit please kindly take my name off of your calling list-”

“Ah, yes, hello?” another voice asked, sounding a bit smoother than the previous. “This is Edd, correct?”

Edd nodded at the question, but then realized after a second that whoever was talking to him couldn’t see him do the gesture (good job, Edd) so he said “yes” again.

But even during the midst of his morning daze, he couldn’t help but notice that both voices he’d heard so far sounded… kinda depressing. “Who is this?” he asked again.

“Oh, my apologies, my name is Patryk… Did you happen to know Tord Larson?”

Edd instantly grew rigid in his spot. The last question seemed to have snapped him out of it, and he sat up a little from his formerly slumped position. Of course he knew Tord, but… he didn’t want to think about him. Not after what he did to his house, to his friends, to _him._

“Yes, I did. Why?” Edd’s stomach churned with nervousness. Was he in trouble? Was the FBI trying to arrest whoever was acquainted with the Norwegian? He was starting to wish he lied about his acknowledgement with him.

“He was your friend, right?”

Edd gulped around the lump in his throat. “Yes. Was.”

“Did he know two other people? Were they his friends?”

Edd sucked his teeth. “Yes, he did, one of them kinda hated him, but - Who are you? What is this about?” What kind of sick joke was this? Was someone trying to rub fucking salt in his wounds like it was a joke?

A sigh from the other end, again sounding miserable and, really, just… _lifeless_. “Tord’s condition is… very grave,” the man said slowly, “and he hasn’t gotten any better since the accident.”

A pause. Edd’s heartbeat only grew faster and faster at the unexpected report. He truly didn’t know of Tord’s condition after “the accident” and he wanted to _stay_ unaware of that - but now he was receiving the news that Tord was in fact still alive, but his health was failing fast…

Didn’t exactly seem like something he could avoid at this point.

Since Edd didn’t offer a proper answer, the man on the other end of the line took it as a hint to keep going. “We don’t think he has much longer to live, and we figured his friends might want to visit him before he…”

His voice trailed off, and it didn’t take Edd long to guess what he meant.

At this point Edd’s eyes had already pooled with tears, his lip quivering, but for some reason he didn’t want to break down and make a fool of himself before this man, who _ever_ this person was. Tord… was really dying. His best - no, his _former_ best friend. “I…”

_Yes. I want to see him. I can’t just let him dying alone -_

… But he left Edd alone at one point. And then he came back just so he could tease Edd like he was a freaking cat toy, ruin his home that he loved so much, and effect his friends in ways that Edd knew they would probably never recover.

Would he be considered selfish if he _didn’t_ want to see Tord, the one who did all that to him?

_Could he be blamed for that?_

He finally broke on a sob, hot tears streaming down his flaming cheeks as he covered his face. The brunette shook his head, setting his unfinished soda to the side as he shook his pessimistic thoughts away. He made up his mind.

Even if Tord was an evil, sadistic, unforgivable maniac, the two shared an unforgettable past that Edd will never ignore. He may have broken his second chance, but… wasn’t everyone a little afraid of death? Wouldn’t it be easier to have someone hold your hand and walk you to the door?

“I… Yes. We’ll see him. Give me an address and we’ll be there as soon as possible.”

As soon as he wrote the directions down and hung up, Edd got up and stretched, stalking his way to the door of his apartment, wondering how he was going to break this to Tom and Matt.

He reminded himself that he couldn’t take too long. No one was sure how much longer Tord had left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't supposed to have two parts but it turned out to be a lot longer than I had planned so I figured why not  
> I've got a lot of prompts to catch up on so if you haven't seen your prompt/request written yet, stay tuned!
> 
> Good things come to those who wait :)


	13. "You Love Him, Don't You?" - (One-Sided Tom/Tord) Hanahaki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edd sees something in Tom that nobody else sees.  
> He tries to deny it, but why even try?
> 
> (heavy references from Queer as Folk)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gUYS THIS WORK GOT OVER A THOUSAND HITS??  
> You readers are wonderful oml thank you!!  
> This prompt is from pandapop, check out their story Tension iT'S AMAZING!

“You like him, don’t you?”

Tom gave his friend a sideways glance as he quirked an eyebrow, clearly lost. He let the sounds of old folk music and clinking beer glasses preoccupy the silence between them for a moment as he thought about the question before answering. “What?”

Edd and Tom were both feeling utterly miserable, and the funny thing was, only one of them knew why the other drowned himself in the ambiance of a bar. Everything happened kind of fast, Edd realized, now that he thought of it and stared subconsciously at the intoxicated man before him, who was handling his alcohol surprisingly well. He’d expected Tom to be drunk by now.

There was some sort of pattern that went on in their household that nobody but Edd seemed to notice. After another one of Tom and Tord’s harmless yet vicious arguments, Tom readied himself to leave the house to assuage his mind in isolation and vodka, and Edd managed to catch up to him and ask if he could come along.

Needless to say, even in the midst of his seething rage, Tom was confused - Edd never drank anything else but cola, so he figured he wanted to either accompany Tom to make him feel better (although he prefered to be alone when he drank) or Edd was depressed about something else (which he immediately ruled out, because this was Edd they were talking about).

It was a surprising mix of both, but the first possibility weight a lot more than the latter. During their yelling, Tord had knocked down one of Edd’s prized paintings into Ringo’s litterbox, and needless to say he wouldn’t be able to get over it for a while. But his main concern, for now, was Tom. He did a good job hiding his feelings for this long, but Edd knew how to rip the rabbit right out of its hole.

“You and Tord. There’s gotta be something else in your heart besides anger, am I right?”

Tom froze during a midway sip, feeling like someone took a sledgehammer and slammed it against his heart with full force, but he somehow managed to keep his facial expression vexed. There’s no way Edd could know.

Right?

“What the fuck do you mean?” he asked blankly, like he didn’t know shit.

The corner of Edd’s lip turned up a bit, but barely. “You think you’ve got everybody fooled, huh?” He chuckled, taking a sip of ice-cold cola he asked for instead of beer. “Well, not me, Tom. I’ve known you for too long. And I know that, somewhere in the heat of all of your shouting and curses, there’s something else hidden underneath all that. Am I right?”

Tom winced, suddenly unable to look the brunette in the eye. Was there really a point in denying it anymore? Edd read him like a freaking book, front to back. It wasn’t fair. Nothing was fair. His muscles were starting to get tense.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Edd frown deepened. Tom was stubborn. But so was he. And he was only doing this because he only wanted the best for him. “Yes you do. I don’t know how, but… That childish, persistent kid has somehow gotten in under the wire… And that’s what happened, huh?”

Tom pursed his lips, and the faint thought of Tord with his haughty sneer and profound accent left him feeling numb. Edd sighed, practically feeling the oppression holding him down, and he placed his hand on his shoulder. “Just admit the truth.”

Tom looked away. _Here it comes._

“You love him, don’t you?”

It was barely above a whisper, and if Tom hadn’t been listening he probably wouldn’t have heard it. Tom forced himself to look at Edd, whose emerald-green eyes were sparkling with honesty and softness and care, and he wondered if he should curse him out for accusing him of such claims or burst into tears. It was shameful, to court such ridiculous and sappy and stupid emotions over the stupid commie…

But they were there. And he couldn’t fucking deny it. And he hated himself for it.

But he couldn’t just give Edd the satisfaction. Who did he think he was?

Out of spite and anger and ignorance, Tom turned away from his companion and took another sip of his drink, hoping it would wash those pesky thoughts away, and he’d pass out and wake up and everything would be forgotten and the day would go on like nothing had never been said.

Edd sat there, staring at Tom and sighing again. Well, he tried. He did his job. It was up to Tom if he wanted to accept the hand that reached out for him.

Tom let the liquid pour down hit throat, cold and smooth, but suddenly he choked on it. He immediately set the glass down, figuring it went down the wrong pipe, but the coughs only got worse. Edd perked up at the man before him, and he patted Tom’s back to help him out. “Hey, buddy, you alright?”

Tom shook his head, feeling something rise from his stomach. What the hell was that? He wasn’t going to throw up, was he? They just got here, not even a half hour ago.

That was when the first one came up. He forced himself to cough with exceeding exertion until…

A flower petal, light and feathery and pink, floated to the counter.

Then another. And another. Then one more, until they came in pairs of two and three and four until they flew out in groups of raging coughs, and Edd could only watch in horror.

Tom was too busy gagging and trying to gasp in between breaths to notice.

When he was finally finished, hurt and confused and in pain, he opened his eyes to check if he was still alive. And he saw the pile of pink flower petals in front of him, and his blood ran cold.

He looked at Edd.

Edd looked at him.

Tears pooled in Tom’s black voids they called eyes, until he finally broke.

His stomach fucking hurt, his lungs fucking burned -

But nothing hurt more than the fact that Tord would never feel the same for him.

Pathetic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: sorry if this came a bit late, i have work to make up in school and finals are coming up -  
> but school's almost over aaaayy


	14. If "The End" Was Just a Nightmare - (Jon/Eduardo)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eduardo learns how to appreciate Jon at 3:24 in the morning  
> Jon's pretty confused but he's not complaining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A prompt given by a guest whose name they chose was Aaa (i've been calling you Triple A in my head hope you don't mind XD)  
> Enjoy! I'll catch up with everyone else's prompts soon, promise ;)

_ “Jon? Jon. C’mon, wake up, buddy. Say something, you idiot!” _

_ Eduardo still doesn’t know what the hell is going on. He sees a giant red robot flying away, his neighbors are in the distance and their house is completely gone - all that’s left are bits and pieces of wood and ash. _

_ He sees blood. At first it’s not a lot, just a little on his hands, maybe a little bit dribbled on his baby-blue shirt, but it soon forms a pool of crimson on the ground and around his body, in Eduardo’s hold it grows warm and wet and Christ Almighty- _

_ Jon got shot. By what, he had no fucking clue (Mark would probably know if he asked him, but he doesn’t see him anywhere), but all he knows is that the bullet must’ve been huge and Jon is dying and he doesn’t know how to stop it. _

_ Eduardo nudges him a little, hoping Jon was just unconscious maybe asleep (anything but dead, really), but his eyes eventually crack open and he says something that shakes him to the core. _

_ “S...Something…” _

_ And he laughs. A bit weak and lifeless, maybe, but holy shit - Jon was laughing. _

_ Jon was bleeding to death and probably in a shit ton of pain and he had the nerve to laugh. _

_ Normally Eduardo would’ve been pissed, but now he’s holding the stupid brit in his arms and he can only squeeze his eyes shut and sob in defeat because he has no other choice but to let him die. _

_ Then something else happens - a harpoon thrusts right through the robot he saw in the sky, from where he doesn’t know (and frankly he doesn’t care either) but all he knows is that he sees the contraption explode midair in the sky, and a white, bright light blinds him and he shouts - _

_ Eduardo doesn’t remember what he shouted exactly, but for some reason he knew there was some sort of meaning behind it. _

_ What was it, what was conjured out of it? Fear? Mourning? Vengeance? _

  


Whatever it was, that was the last overwhelming emotion Eduardo felt before he awoke with a start, his head flying up from his pillow and his lungs gasping for air. He gulped, feeling the cold sweat running down the side of his head as he tried to grasp his surroundings… 

There was no robot, no rubble, no blood…

He was home. His head told him he was home, but something made him grab at the blankets in a desperate attempt to find or hold something he cherished so dearly.

“Jon,” he muttered to himself, quiet at first but then he said it again to wake himself up. “Jon.”

He was dead, wasn’t he? Wasn’t he bleeding to death in his arms, not even a minute ago?

In a blind, desperate need for reassurance, Eduardo suddenly bolts out of his bed, out of his room and down the hall, not caring that he was only wearing a pair of boxers.

“Jon? Where the fuck-” He practically punches Jon’s door open with extreme unnecessary force, his eyes wide frantically as he looked around for his housemate. The smaller man jumps from the noise, yelping in fear and sitting up straight in his bed and clutching onto his stuffed bear he always slept with.

“Eduardo? What’s wrong?” Jon feared he forgot to turn off the stove’s oven again. “I’m sorry I forgot it won’t happen again-”

Eduardo released an exasperated yet relieved breath, but the heavy feeling in his chest never left; it seemed to only get heavier.

He wordlessly rushed over to Jon, pulling him into a tight hug. “Thank God,” he sighed into his shoulder, without a second thought of his ego being tainted by the rush of affection.

Jon blinks, frozen in place as he felt Eduardo’s strong yet surprisingly warm and welcoming arms embrace him. Although he’s confused as to why his sleep was interrupted by the sudden care, he doesn’t mind - he smiles and hugs Eduardo back, a bit nervous that the man might pull away, but he stayed.

“Oh, if you just wanted a hug you could’ve just said so!” he says happily, and Eduardo just groans. He was obviously unaware of that scary-ass nightmare he had, but…It was just a dream, wasn’t it? So why was he so goddamn  _ scared _ ? 

Perhaps this was a good thing? Maybe that would help Eduardo appreciate this man more while he was still here. He hugged Jon tighter, figuring he probably should have been appreciating him from the start.

And then he began to cry, tears leaking from his scrunching eyes and wetting Jon’s shoulder sleeve. Jon’s nerves instantly turns to worry, and he begins to rub Eduardo’s back. “Hey, it’s okay, Duardo… I’m here, okay?” he comforts, even though he has no idea why his housemate, whom he considered to be so cold and fearless, suddenly broke down at three twenty-four in the morning,

But Jon smiles softly, his vanity being tickled by the fact that Eduardo had gone to him for comfort, which was something Jon had more than enough to offer. He takes a deep breath, inhaling Eduardo’s faint, masculine scent that warmed his cheeks.“Y’know, it isn’t a bad thing to be scared…” he feels the need to say.

Eduardo sniffles quietly at that (which Jon finds kinda cute), and he mumbles into his shoulder. “Jon, please, just shut up for five damn minutes…”

Jon chuckles at that, and he keeps his ministrations going. “Okay,” he obliges.

Eduardo hesitates, suddenly feeling a bit awkward because of the position they were in, and for some accursed reason he just can’t let Jon go.

And he asks a question he thought he would never have to ask anyone in his entire life:

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

Jon blushes at that, and he begins to get flustered. “E-Eduardo, are you sure you’re alrig-”

“It’s a yes or no question, Jon, damn it. Just answer it.”

“I-I guess so…” Butterflies flutter in Jon’s stomach as he scooches over, lifting the covers a bit for Eduardo to crawl in. He goes in slowly, almost cautiously, and he’s glad it’s dark because he was sure his face was as red as a fucking beet. But then Jon curls up to him, yawning (he sounded like a freaking cat to be honest but it was adorable) and closing his eyes. “Good night, Eduardo…”

Eduardo finally sighs, giving up the act and keeping Jon close to him and feeling… unnaturally protective. Jon wasn’t getting shot by anyone, not by his watch. He felt his former fear fall into something calmer, more peaceful… 

And while he feels very,  _ very _ humiliated at first, Eduardo soon learns how to fall into Jon’s comfort quickly. It doesn’t take very long for him to doze off later, snoring softly as an arm rested over Jon’s shoulders perfectly, like it was meant to be there.

Needless to say, Mark was confused when he found his two housemates in the same bed, comfortably snugged beside each other like nothing had ever happened.


	15. Infuriated - (no ships kinda?? mainly Tom and Tord)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone tries to take advantage of Tom after he gets drunk at a party.  
> Needless to say, Tord's pissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, first off -  
> I'm SOOO SORRY i haven't posted in a whilertyuiolkjhgv kill me  
> Finals are taking up a lot of my time but good news:  
> Summer's starting next week! SO ill be able to catch up with everyone's requests!!  
> Thanks for being so patient guys <3
> 
> This is just a drabble so it's nothing special, expect nothing fantastic out of this chapter oof

It was Tord’s turn to be the designated driver.

He didn’t really drink alcohol that much anyway, so he didn’t mind. It was fun watching his friends get drunk and act stupid, and it was even better making fun of them during their hangovers. They already acted silly when they were sober, but it was always more interesting when they were intoxicated.

But this time it was different. Tord was furious.

Laurel had decided to throw a party at her house, nothing special. Originally she had only invited a few people she was actually close too, but someone (Tord was assuming it was Eduardo) had decided to invite the  _ whole town,  _ so the place was packed as a result.

This was the first sign that Tord should have caught on to. They barely knew a quarter of the people in their area, so it wasn’t like they were familiar with every single person.

But that didn’t stop his friends from going and, of course, getting stupid drunk. Edd had said he wanted to hold back on the drinking since the party was so huge and he didn’t want to get lost (since his coordination was horrible when he was drunk), but someone had spiked his cola.

Again, Tord assumed it was Eduardo, but that wasn’t the point.

The point was that someone had tried to mess with Tom.

And it wasn’t the typical let’s-fight-and-wake-up-with-a-black-eye-the-next-day kind of mess with, but someone had tried to  _ touch. Tom. _

_ Tord was infuriated. _

Normally he didn’t watch out for the brit as keenly as he did Edd and Matt, mainly because Tom had gotten drunk multiple times before and knew how to handle himself,  _ and _ the other two had just started getting comfortable with drinking. But while he was watching out for his friends with a cigar hanging out of his lips, something caught the corner of his eye.

There was Tom, drinking out of his flask and talking to some - some  _ guy,  _ someone Tord had never seen before. He was giggling - something he  _ never  _ did around Tord - at whatever the guy had said, and the guy was just leaning against the wall with an irritating smirk on his face.

Tord shook his head, sucking his teeth as he looked away. He was overthinking it. He wasn’t jealous.

But he kept stealing glances at the pair, having an uncomfortable feeling in his chest. It seemed like the guy was inching closer and closer to Tom everytime he looked.

Until he was finally bold enough to lift Tom’s chin with his thumb, and Tord’s fists immediately clenched. He could see the guy’s lips moving, and although he couldn’t hear a word he was saying due to the party’s blasting music, he could tell he was flirting. Smooth-talking his way to Tom.

And Tom was just smiling and swooning into his charms like the blind, idiotic fool that he was. Tord resisted the urge to interrupt and push the inquisitve moron off Tom, but he knew that would only cause trouble. And they went to this party to have a good time, so he restrained himself.

_ I’m the designated driver, that’s all. Tom’s just drunk. He won’t remember the imbecile tomorrow morning. The designated driver, the designated driver, the designated dri - _

He looked up again, and they were gone.

His heart began to race, and while his head told him to stay put his instincts made his feet wander around the party in anticipation.

He made sure Edd and Matt were okay - they were more than fine, actually, as they participated in a game of beer pong and placing bets with Eduardo and his friends. _  
__Where did they go??_

“C’mon, it’ll be fun, and it’ll only take a minute!”

“I-I don’t know, we should just get another drink… Logan, seriously, stop…”

Tord’s blood ran cold, and he rushed to the empty hallway of the house where he heard the familiar male voice.

The first thing he did was shove the disgusting bastard off of Tom, who’d had his arms around his waist and his lips dangerously close to his.

Then he turned his attention to the brit himself, making sure he was alright. His facial expression read it all - he was shit-faced and completely out of it, but Tord could see that something had made him uneasy.

Then he looked down to notice that his belt had been undone, his pants tugged down just enough to let Tom’s boxers show.

Tord’s eyes widened in fury, and he turned around when he felt a hand grip his shoulder.

“Hey, man, mind your busine -”

Well, long story short, that was the last thing the guy was going to be able to say in a while. Tord’s fist ached for the rest of the week.

_ How could anyone have the audacity to take advantage of someone like that? _

_ What would have happened if Tord hadn’t been there? _

He wouldn’t, no, he  _ couldn’t _ let Tom get hurt like that, not again.

He released an exasperated breath, wrapping an arm around the half-concious Tom as he gathered up the rest of his friends so they could leave.

Of course, Tom couldn’t recall a thing about the night before, and Tord decided it’d be best if it stayed that way. Although his friends always wondered why he was always so reluctant to go to parties all of a sudden.


	16. Flirting - (Kinda One-Sided Tom/Tord)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tord sucks at flirting, and is totally unaware of how Tom feels about him.  
> They go to McDonald's at the end, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a little drabble before I can start working on bigger chapters :)

“The way you flirt is shameful,” Tom snickered, shaking his head and nudging Tord’s arm when he came back from another failed attempt to get with a blonde chick.

Tord laughed, embarrassed as he nudged Tom back with his elbow. “Hey, at least I still have a chance, with looks like these,” he joked, stroking his chin like Matt did when he showed off his beauty.

Tom shook his head again, grinning. He couldn’t deny Tord  _ did _ have his fair share of charming looks, with that baby face and chesnut-colored hair and silver eyes… 

But if a guy didn’t know how to talk, then why put his hopes up?

“Well, maybe instead of saying some dumb shit like ‘Hey babe, you have big boobs and we should totally screw in the woods sometime,’ you should, I dunno, actually start a conversation?”

Tord sneered, giving Tom a sideways glance. “And how the fuck is that gonna happen? You’re the only person I talk to, aside from Edd and Matt.” He shrugged. “Honestly, Thomas, I don’t even care at this point. I’m just trying my hopes with everyone and waiting to see what happens.”

Tom chuckled at that, but he rubbed his arm, falling quiet as he let his though wander off.

“I dunno… Maybe it’ll someone you’d least expect. They’ve probably been right under your nose this entire time and you’re just too dumb to notice, Commie,” he quipped, smirking.

Tord snorted at that, and while a lot of people considered that immature, Tom thought it was kinda cute. “Yeah, right. One day we’ll find out,” he concluded, popping a few knuckles.

Tom sighed. It was obvious Tord wasn’t serious about a relationship, much less commitment, at least not yet.. But what if Tom waited for him? Would Tord eventually realize that the person he was looking for could be standing right in front of him?

Tord turned to Tom with a grin, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Tom, you’re spacing out again,” he laughed, his ash-colored irises sparkling. “I don’t feel like going home yet. How does McDonald’s sound?”

Tom’s cheeks warmed, and he couldn’t help but return the smile. “Sounds good,” he said happily, continuing to walk with Tord to wherever life took them.


	17. Fake Proposals - (Tom/Tord)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Tord pretend to get engaged in multiple restaurants so they can get free food.  
> Works every time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short, but unbelievably fluffy. Hope you enjoy!

"Do you ever think we should just stop doing this?"

“Stop doing what?” Tom asked innocently, but the smirk on his face gave it away.

Tord laughed, shaking his head. “We’re horrible.”

“I can’t deny that is most certainly true.”

“Why am I feeling guilty? You’re the one who’s supposed to have common sense.”

“Tord, I gave a shotgun to a little kid during a zombie apocolypse. What on Earth makes you think I have any type of common sense?”

Tord sighed, smiling as he kissed Tom’s cheek. “Pretending to get engaged in public restaurants  _ is  _ a good idea though,” he compromised, shoving another McDonald’s cookie in his mouth.

“Exactly! Free food! So why are you complaining?” Tom’s mouth was smeared with Dairy Queen vanilla  ice cream.

“Because… the day I  _ actually _ propose to you it won’t be as special,” Tord said with a shrug. At least, he certainly  _ hoped  _ they’d last that long.

“Hey, but what if  _ I’m _ the one who’s doing the proposing?” Tom joked, but he caught on to realize that Tord was kind of serious.

He softened before smiling softly, staring at Tord momentarily with half-lidded eyes before stealing a kiss from him. “It’ll always be special to me, Commie,” he said, his heart warm.

And it was cute, honestly… Tord put in so much effort whenever they did these gigs, and he pulled it off so perfectly every time. All Tom had to do was act all shocked and emotional, but Tord had to do the kneeling, the speech, the charming… 

Tom could hardly wait for the day it would really happen.

Tord sighed, deciding he’d have to be content with that. He wanted Tom to be happy anyway, and if he insisted… “I hope so… you taste sweet,” he noted, licking his lips.

“It’s the ice cream, you idiot,” Tom laughed.

“You need to learn how to eat ice cream properly, you idiot,” Tord countered. “You look five, with your mouth like that.”

“Shut it, babe, and tell me where our next stop is. I’m in the mood for a burger.”


	18. Powerful (Songfic) - TomTord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's the song if you want to listen to it, it ain't mine but I love it like I made it: https://youtu.be/Y7OCgi7rANc
> 
> Literally Tom and Tord on the beach with some fluff at the end. There's a lot of symbolic shit here but damn can I tell yall how much I love this song. I've had it on loop for hours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know I haven't posted in a long time and I'm really sorry about that, I barely have time to write now but I'm really trying my best to cram all my assignments in before school ends so I can dedicate my time to writing, and to you guys as well :)
> 
> I'm honestly so surprised people are still reading this collection like it's so far behind oof-  
> Anyways hope you guys enjoy!

When Tom thought of Tord, he thought of flames. But not the kind of furious blaze you’d see in, for instance, a forest fire, but rather the gentle, benevolent fire that was hot and welcoming and comforting in every way possible. That didn’t mean the Norwegian didn’t possess that dangerous spark in him - he had a side that no man would want to see - but he never directed that towards Tom. He simply cared for him too much to consider it.

But that was something that Tord feared, he realized as he walked with the blue-hooded male with his their hands clasped together, his fingers entwined with his while it sent a surging warmth from his hand to his arm to the rest of his body.

How did this happen?  _ Why  _ did this happen? Was there a reason why the universe with all its beauty and power decided to pull these two broken souls - a drunken being who was barely holding on to that little strand of hope and an egotistical socialist who only ever dreamed of his own future - into a bud and allow them to bloom into something special? Something that was so precious to Tord now, when before he would have overlooked in his former perspective?

It was strange. It was almost extraordinary, how every light touch of his skin against his sent a sort of fondness, like a voltage of shivers throughout his system that almost left him feeling numb. Was that the kind of love that they portrayed in movies? Would he even dare call it that?

When he thought of Tom, he thought of waves. But not the smooth, quiet ripples you’d see at a bay, but the crashing and sapphire-sparkling kahunas that met the sandy shores without a second thought. But when those kahunas and his crackling flames met… They didn’t extinguish the other, they didn’t cause harm. They joined forces, and they were unstoppable. But without the other it felt like something was missing, and it wasn’t a feeling either of them desired.

Tord’s thoughts were altered when he felt Tom gently tug his sleeve. “Hey,” he said with that silky voice of his that flowed beautifully with his teasing smile. “What’s on your mind?”

Tord stared at him, his mind still miles away, until he chuckled. “Too much,” he said with a simple shrug, not wanting to overwhelm the man. After all, he barely understood what was going on in between them himself. He just knew that it was just…  _ magical _ .

He looked over to the sun, which was starting to set and lower into the sea, hues of orange and purple and pink cascading the sky. “How do you think all this came to be?”

Tom sighed, looking at his lover appreciatively. “Tord…” He grinned, knowing that Tord had a way with words when he started with this. But right now he just wanted to embrace the peace in the moment they had right now.

He opened his mouth to say more, but Tom hushed him as he put a finger on his lips. “You talk too much,” he said with a smile, wrapping his arms around his neck and letting his lips brush against his.

Tord blushed, sighing as he allowed his arms to rest comfortably around his waist as he kissed him back, everything vanishing from his mind while Tom’s waves came crashing in.


	19. Accident (EddMatt)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was a car accident, and although Edd and Tom got out of it okay, there may or may not be something wrong with Matt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an idea I got that turned out to be way longer than I'd planned but it's something lol
> 
> (Imagine an AU where Matt gets amnesia and Edd and Tom have to help him remember everything)

Edd paced around the waiting room nervously for hours on end, holding his breath as the pent-up guilt in his stomach threatened to burst. When his legs felt like they were about to give out and he couldn’t walk anymore he took a seat in one of those snow-white chairs, his knee bouncing furiously as he bit his bottom lip.

Honestly, what was it with the color of the hospital? Everything was white, literally everything, and it made Tom a bit unsettled. Well, there was the occasional patient covered in red while they were being rushed to the emergency room, but that didn’t count.

Tom’s eyeless sockets followed Edd’s every movement worriedly. He couldn’t blame the man for his bouncing nerves. They had been waiting almost all day for some information on Matt’s condition, but they hadn’t gotten anything, it was infuriating. They could have at least dropped by and give them a heads-up. Did they find a sort of sadistic joy in watching the two sweat in fear over their best friend?

Well,  _ his  _ best friend. Edd was something a little more than that.

He sighed, finally sitting beside Edd as he wrapped an arm around his shoulder to comfort him. “He’s a strong guy. He’ll be alright,” he said softly, trying to sound confident as he tried to convince himself of the matter.

“What the hell is taking them so long?” he muttered, angry at them and at himself as he ran a hand through his matted hair. Bags were beginning to form under his eyes as he gave Tom a hopeless look, and he cringed at it. That was a look he never saw on Edd before. “He hit his head on something, Tom. They never told us what was in they were going to do, what if it was too risky and they didn’t want us to know? What if he -”

The door of the emergency room clicked open and slammed shut. Both of them looked up instantly, seeing a doctor walking out slowly. “Are you two the friends of Matt Har -”

“Yes,” Edd nodded and shot up from his seat, Tom following close behind. Well, he was his boyfriend, but that didn’t matter right now. “Is he okay? He’s gonna be fine, right?”

The older man met Edd’s gaze with a hesitant look, and a horror immediately settled in his gut. “I’m happy to say that, in matters of his physical health, he’ll be alright. He recieved a concussion, a few broken ribs and multiple cuts and bruises, but in all due time it’ll heal.”

He let the words register in his head, finally releasing the sigh he’d been holding in for so long as he let his shoulders slump a little. That was a lot for one person, and that meant he wouldn’t be able to model for awhile, but they Edd and Tom would take care of him and he’d be fine, right?  
“Wait, physical?” Tom asked, wary of celebrating too soon. “Did you leave something out?”

The doctor gave the pair a dreadful look. “I haven’t finished.”

Edd blinked, worry placing itself back in his heart again. “What?”

“His physical state may be restored if treated with care, but the concussion came along with serious head trauma. It was hit with such force that it may have shut down a few vital brain vessels that are needed to produce thoughts, memories, ability to speak and understand and hear…”

“Okay, and? What’s wrong with him?” Edd asked, desperate for answers. Why did they always have to go _ so fucking slow  _ with the explanations? “Are you saying he can’t do any of those things, was it that bad?”

“Edd, buddy, let him finish,” Tom said calmly, clamping Edd’s shoulder, but he couldn’t deny the quiver in his voice.

The doctor cleared his throat. “No, your friend hasn’t lost all of that, but...he may have developed a case of amnesia. He can communicate just fine, but his memories may have been wiped out with the trauma he received. We’re still trying to find to see if we can restore the cells that are needed to help him remember, but…”

The words grew fuzzy and meaningless in Edd’s head as he lost his train of thought. He spaced out for a moment, a fear he had never known before gripping him like a vice before he blurted out another question. “So, wait. You’re saying he won’t remember  _ us _ ?” he asked to clarify, although he was afraid of the answer.

“Again, we’re not completely sure. He may remember upon seeing you two again, but there is no guarantee. It was harsh on him.”

“Can we see him?” Tom asked, crossing his arms. If he planned on saying no he had a whole other thing coming.

He hesitated once more. “Are you sure you want to see him? It may be best if you gave him some time to adjust, he could be vulnerable to being easily frightened since he may not remember a thing -”

“Yes. Let us see him.” Edd’s eyes narrowed at the doctor. He really suggested on making them wait more, after they’d been waiting all day? Hell no, not on his watch.

The doctor finally sighed, giving up. “Alright, come this way…” He began to lead them down the blinding white halls, and Tom stayed close to Edd for support.

Edd took a deep breath when they reached the door of his room. “Fuck…”

Tom patted his back, giving him a little smile. “At least we know he’s okay…” And not dead.

Edd gave him a grim look. “Yeah...physically.”

And with that, he opened the door and walked in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk if I'll continue this or not but imagining a conversation with Matt having would be pretttyyy interesting


	20. Cautious - (TomTord) Highschool AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tord offers to help Tom with his English assignment, but Tom isn't so pleased.  
> But he learns to realize that Tord is indeed a human with a heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a drabble so it may or may not be half-assed -  
> IF YOU'RE IN SCHOOL OR COLLEGE EVERYONE CAN RELATE TO THIS

“Argh! Damnit!”

Tom slammed his laptop shut and took a deep breath to try and calm his racing heart, but it didn’t do any good to help so he let out a long and irritated groan that Tord could probably hear a mile away. Fuck, why did technology have to be so inconvenient at the worst times? Why did it have to erase the  _ entire fucking file?  _ He’d been working on that for weeks!

Tord came out from the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist as he ruffled his hair dry with another, mostly concerned and a little confused at the noise. It sounded more like a growl from an animal rather than a human. “Hey, is everything alright?”

Tom’s head was resting in his hands, his knee bouncing furiously before taking a moment to look over to Tord. “Fuck off.” Did he think Tom was dependent on him or something? He didn’t have to step out the shower just to check on him. Idiot.

God, he was so fucking mad.

“Woah, I was just asking if something was wrong. Christ.” Tord rose a brow, debating if he should be offended. He’d let the little bastard come over so he could help him with his English assignment. They’d gotten off the wrong foot multiple times before, but why was he so touchy now?

Tom sighed again, getting up and starting to pace around, needing to distract himself from the boiling hot anger in his stomach as he began to ramble. “I was almost done revising the essay and I don’t know what happened exactly I guess my hand slipped on the wrong key and the laptop just completely shut down and  _ everything is fucking gone -” _

He wanted to break something. He probably would’ve broken something if he was in his own home. At least he had the courtesy to restrain himself in someone else’s, even if that someone else was Tord.

“Hey, do me a favor and take a few breaths for me,” Tord instructed calmly, a bit too calm for Tom’s comfort. He narrowed his eyes at the Norwegian. “What the hell? You don’t even care, do you? You think you’re my shitty mentor or something?”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Oh yeah, because asking you to breath so you don’t have a stroke is so fucking selfish of me.” He crossed his arms. He wasn’t gonna lie, Tom was kind of cute when he was pissed, not that he’d say it out loud. Maybe that was why he liked annoying him so much. “It’s not the end of the world. How about you try talking to me when your ears aren’t red?”

Tom sucked his teeth, turning away with a grunt to hide the slight blush on his cheeks. He heard Tord walk away, probably to his room so he could change into some proper clothes. The chances of the Brit swooning over Tord shirtless if he wasn’t so upset were pretty high… But not now. Definitely not now. His grade was on the line over a stupid and petty mistake. What did Tord know? His grades were sky high and he didn’t even have to put effort in them. He was smart and Tom wasn’t and he hated himself for admitting it.

He could be better if he wanted to… But his demons kept holding him back. Tord couldn’t possibly relate to that. He was screwed and he was going to fail and everyone would hate him.

Right when Tom began to wonder if he’d bought enough vodka so he could waste his troubles away when he returned home, Tord came back out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Okay, I already asked this once, and I’m going to ask again in hopes of a better and considerably kinder answer: Are you okay?”

Tom groaned, but he couldn’t help his shoulders slumping in defeat. “No. I’m not. I can’t redo that entire paper again. Right when I think I’m getting something done and I’m actually getting productive it all just goes down to shit. It’s always me.”

He bit his lower lip, thinking things over. “Listen, if it makes you feel better, I can do it for you. No worries. I’ll send you the link to it by tomorrow morning and you can turn it in to the teacher by the time it’s due,” he offered, and his hopes raised a little when he saw Tom’s eyes light up a bit.

“Wait, really?” he asked, surprised at first as hope bubbled in his chest, but it was immediately shut down with reigning doubt. “Okay, what’s the catch?”

“No catch. I want to help you, Tom, really.” It honestly hurt him to see Tom like this… Although the Brit tried his very best to hide his inner demons, Tord saw right through him like glass. Tom caught his interest as soon as they met, and his curiosity for him piqued much more over time than he’d liked. He was going through something much worse than alcohol and parental abuse. The least he could do was finish an assignment for him.

Tom stared at the devil-haired man, speechless. He’d never seen this side of Tord before. It was welcoming, helpful… even worried? “Are you sure?” He asked slowly to confirm, and he nodded with a little grin.

“Yes, I’m sure. I know you wouldn’t do the same for me, but I don’t care. Just pray that this will give you a passing grade, a C at the very least. You should really head home and catch up on your rest.” Tord shrugged, and Tom winced a little.

“And how do I know you won’t forget? Or you’re doing this to me on purpose so I don’t get it do-”

“I know I’m bad, Thomas, but I’m not  _ that  _ horrid. Am I?” He chuckled, and Tom sighed. Perhaps he was just overthinking it… And maybe Tord was right. Maybe he did underestimate him, but after everything that’s been going on in his life, could he be blamed for being cautious?

Tom gulped, wanting to refuse the soothing feeling enter his heart, but the walls that he built around it was hit by the harsh blow. Damnit. Tord was getting closer by the second. “Thank you,” he said finally, his voice soft and genuine, but it sounded too genuine so he tried making it sound rougher. “Let me know if you need anything, then.”

“Of course. I’ll see you around.” Tord smiled, giving him a little wave. He’d get to Tom’s core, one way or another. He’d surely see to that.


	21. Waking Up (Jon/Eduardo) After "The End"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A request by a guest!: (THAT RHYMED) Thanks for the prompt fam :)  
> Jon is put into a coma after getting struck by Tord's contraption, and his friends seem to lose all hope.  
> But there's a happy ending, I promise.

The last time Eduardo shed a tear, he had fallen and broken his leg trying to do an impressive move on his scooter. In second grade, eighteen years ago, in the playground of their elementary school. He doesn’t recall much, but he definitely remembers one thing - the sound. The echoing laughs of surrounding students who thought it was all a joke, Jon being the only one reaching his hand out to care, and his own deafening screams and cries of pain and embarrassment.

But that was different… the pain he felt was physical. He could deal with that. It only hurt for a moment, but he could comfort himself in knowing that soon, it’d go away. It’d heal and vanish like it’d never happened and he could go on with his life.

But now, as he sat near John's hospital bed with his hands folded and his head lowered, he realized something. Snapping a bone, feeling his cheeks burn in shame, feeling weak under Jon’s offer to help him… It was nothing compared to pain he would feel if Jon never woke up.

Eduardo felt his face burning again. He was such an asshole.

He then heard the door to the hospital room open, and he knew it was Mark. He came at the same time every day to bring Eduardo a cup of coffee and, of course, to see his housemate. Eduardo accepted the coffee with a grunt of acknowledgement, barely looking in his direction. It was like his eyes were glued to the man in the bed, like he would die if he dared to turn away for even a second.

The blonde frowned, clasping his shoulder. “You hanging in there?” he asked, worried sick, but honestly a bit more worried for Eduardo rather than Jon. Of course he wanted him to wake up, but the Spaniard had taken a harsher blow from this incident than he had expected. He stayed there day and night for almost a week now.

And there was no response.

Right now, Eduardo was seething with anger, and it was all because of that stupid Norwegian. Tord. Of course the dumbass thought it was a good idea to build a giant robot. Of course it had to be Jon that had to get shot.

Of course Eduardo would regret what he said earlier that day.

 _I wish you were dead._ He said that.

 _Eduardo had said that._ Over something so small and irrelevant…

“Why did I say that?” He muttered, his hands covering his face as he felt that same burning shame in second grade even though no one was there to bully him. Years of self-loathing hardened him and convinced him that he was the best and better off alone.

And now the only other person besides Mark that was willing to stand by him was on the edge of death. He was about to get what he wanted.

So why was he on the verge of tears?

Mark didn’t know what he was talking about. He wasn’t there to hear Eduardo say that, and the Spaniard was glad for it. “Hey, at least he’s holding up for now,” he tried to comfort the brunette, rubbing his back, but his touch just wasn’t the same. It wasn’t as light and sweet and gentle as the beady-eyed idiot’s touch.

“Damn it, Mark. You just don’t get it, do you?” he groaned, trying to suppress his anger as he got up from his chair with just enough force to make the chair’s legs scratch against the floor. “It’s been six days going on seven, for Christ’s sake. And he hasn’t moved a fucking muscle! Don’t you see what the hell is going on?” he growled, hating that his voice was beginning to break. “He isn’t holding onto anything! He’s going to leave us a- and we won’t be able to do anything but stand by and watch him die, goddamnit!”

Before Mark could open his mouth to speak, already surprised by Eduardo’s sudden outbreak, the brunette whipped his head to Jon’s unconscious body and glared. “For fuck’s sake… You never knew how much you meant to me, did you?” he muttered, gritting his teeth. “ _I_ didn’t even know how much I cared for you until… until this bullshit. Jesus, if you cared so much about me like you said you did then you’d say something.”

Silence. Nothing but deafening, thundering silence. The faint beeping of Jon's heart rate monitor almost drove Eduardo insane.

Eduardo stared at his pale, peaceful face, and finally his anger dissipated and watered down to sadness. He crumpled back to his chair beside Mark and whimpered softly, finally letting his barriers down. There was no point in keeping it up. It hurt too much and his throat burned as the words spilled out. He should have kept his dumbass quiet.

He shouldn’t have grown attached.

He thought it was over… Until he heard it.

“S-Something…”

And a stupid little chuckle followed after.

He felt his heart, that was shattered of any thread of hope remaining, suddenly revive and stitch itself together. His head snapped up.

“No way. No fucking way.” Eduardo’s jaw dropped and Mark’s jaw hung wide open, staring at Jon, who was moving and stirring and _awake_.

Jon only laughed a little more, weak and subtle but holy shit - Jon was laughing! There wasn’t a sound more beautiful and majestic that could match with the flying fireworks in his mind so perfectly…

Eduardo leaped up without a second thought and hugged him tightly. “You motherfucker,” he said dryly, losing his voice to his emotion, unsure if he should laugh or cry and scream at him for scaring him and Mark like that. He gulped and his stomach threatened to burst.

Jon smiled weakly, meeting Mark’s gaze with a warm expression. A remark like that was… rather amusing to wake up to, but it was nothing new. “Good to see you too…”

Eduardo’s face had never been more wet with joy. It stained his hospital gown but he didn’t care. And he began to laugh through his tears. “Jesus Christ, you’re really okay…”

Mark stood next to them, smirking down at Eduardo triumphantly. “And you were saying?”

“Shut the fuck up.” He cupped Jon’s face and stared in his jet-black eyes. “Are you okay?”

Jon nodded, still drowsy from his awakening, but he was quite aware of what was going on. “What happened, Duardo?” he asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes like he just woke up. “Isn’t this the hospital?”

“Shh, don’t push yourself. Get your rest before I lose you again.” Eduardo was to the point, but he couldn’t stop smiling and crying. “God, I’m a fucking mess.”

Jon smiled, reaching over to dry a tear. “Hey, don’t cry… You’ll get a headache…”

Eduardo sighed, shaking his head and kissing his cheek, and kissing it again, and again and again and again. Who the fuck cared who was watching? He’d never know if this opportunity would be the last. Jon’s cheeks cascade with pink, waking up more at the epiphany, but giggling softly as he turns his head so Eduardo could continue spoiling him because boy oh boy, could he get used to this.

Mark grins, backing out of the room slowly. “I’ll go let the nurse know the good news. You two… Have fun.”


	22. Demon Hunter AU - (Tom/Tord)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tord isn't like any other demon Tom he experienced before - his words are just as smooth as his looks, and he may be able to change Tom's mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request for TheLittlestAngel, go check out their works cuz they lit :)  
> Also this is a lot longer than I intended it to be, sorry hope you enjoy  
> Disclaimer: I've never written anything for this AU before so if something's off it's my fault, I tried my best tho eNJOY

“Do you feel anything yet, Tom?” The brunette’s voice sounded scratchy and staticy through the earpiece he gave him, but the man could hear him loud and clear.

“Yeah, I think I’m close...” A few minutes at most, he’d find something soon. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he listened closely, his vision sharply checking out every detail and crevasse of the abandoned street. Everything was eerily quiet and darkened by night. No wonder these filthy creatures roamed in places like this - they blended right in. Any bypasser who didn’t have the knowledge Tom did would meet quite an unfortunate fate.

Tom grunted, feeling the weight of all the hunting equipment weighing on his body. He wished he could dump it all on the side of the rode and leave it for rats or some homeless guy to play with, but Edd has specifically told him that every part was essential if he wanted to spot and bind a demon.

“And what if worse comes to worst and I have to run?”

“That won’t happen,” Edd replied coolly, crossing his arms and frankly caring less about Tom’s complaints. “You’re lucky I didn’t hand you one of those stupid giant EVPs or spirit boxes and shit. You need every single piece that I’m giving you. I mean, unless you want to die, I guess. I suppose demons would love the irony of getting rid of a demon hunter.” He smirked because he knew that would get to the black-eyed jack.

And it did. Tom merely grumbled, shut up, and turned around to go. He was stubborn but he knew better than to press Edd’s buttons. He was the one who dealt with technology and knew way more than Tom or Matt ever could, after all.

Their group was honestly simple, but quite organized and clever in Tom’s eyes. While Edd handled controlling the tech (since Tom knew he couldn’t do it all himself), Matt designed his outfit for him so it could be as light as possible for him in case Tom was right and experienced a situation where he’d be forced to chase… or run.

Which has never happened, at least not yet.

While he pretended like it was pesky and not much of a big deal, deep down, it thrilled him. He loved the adrenaline, the excitement of tracking them down and making them vanish, keeping everyone safe. It was almost like a video game, and although sometimes it was violent, he wasn’t really hurting anyone… he was helping.

Right?

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A dark figure sneered in the darkness, watching Tom keenly. So this was the infamous demon hunter that everyone talked about. He looked exactly how they depicted him to be - his body tall and lean, his hair spiky and the color of fawn, and his most despicable feature - pitch black eyes.

Or eye sockets. No one was sure. Some say that those eyes allowed him to see demons and that was why he was nominated as the town’s demon hunter. Others say it’s his fearlessness, that it was something that he pursued and loved.

Apparently this was true, at least according to what Tord was seeing. He’d seen other demons perish by this man right before his eyes, but it wasn’t like he cared or anything. He barely knew them, they were just the type to merely pass by and give a nod, but not to be friends and become too close. Relationships were pointless. They would just drag him down.

However, after laying his eyes on Tom for the first time close up, he figured that was going to change. Something told him he _needed_ to interact with him. Not give him a direct proposition, maybe tease him a little and see how things go. Hopefully he won’t kill him before he got the chance to say anything.

Tord chuckled lowly, quietly as his teeth subtly gleamed over his bottom lip.

Oh boy, this should be fun. Because, even though Tom would entirely deny it, he knew he had a few demons of his own...

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Suddenly the radar Tom was clutching in his hand that sputtered a series of collective noises that signaled that something unnatural was nearby went berserk, vibrating in his hand furiously and threatening to burst. “Woah!”

“Huh? Everything alright, Tom?” Edd’s worried voice etched through the earpiece, and Tom shook his head despite the fact Edd couldn’t see him. A small fear bubbled in his chest. Did that mean he was close to something stronger? “This thing’s going crazy… is it broken?”

“What? No, everything I handed you was in perfect shape! Did you drop it by accident?”

“No, of course not - shit!”

The piece of trash kept shaking out of control, growing louder and louder until it sparked and finally shut down in Tom’s hand. He hissed and threw it away, shaking his hand in pain and surprise. “Fucking hell,” he muttered, getting pissed.

“It broke, didn’t it?” Edd wasn’t all that surprised, but he wouldn’t say he wasn’t disappointed either. “Are you okay?”

“Piece of shit exploded in my hand. Must’ve been faulty.” Tom grimaced, trying to convince himself of that, but something told him something was wrong. Something was dangerously close.

A breeze swept by him, sudden but gentle, making him freeze in his tracks. It became stronger and more threatening, and Tom knew it wasn’t just the weather. He forced himself to say the thing he never thought he’d say, deciding it’d be safer not to take the risk: “Edd, I think something’s wro-”

“Tom? Tom, are you there?” Edd’s voice was wearing off with each word, and Tom froze. Fuck. “Edd? Edd!”

Both of them started to shout in their earpieces which did no good, but Tom kept shouting anyway until his friend’s voice was cut off completely.

There was an eerie silence. All he could hear was his own breath, coming out in puffs of freezing air.

He was completely alone, utterly alone.

Fuck. Fuck!

“Of course,” he muttered, straightening himself up as he looked around. Okay, so Edd wasn’t around to assist him, that was fine. He could handle a demon on his own, he’d done it before.

Tord watched, holding back a snicker. Perfect. He got his prize. Tom wasn’t totally defenseless, but at least he was isolated. And from the looks of it, what Tord had done to his equipment so far got him shook.

He waited a moment to let his nerves jumble before subtly stalking behind him, tapping his shoulder.

“You seem to be in a bit of trouble, friend.”

Tom jumped, yelping in surprise as he flew around and aimed a weapon at him. Tord rose is hand up defensively, but the smirk on his face didn’t leave. “Woah, let’s slow down for a moment, yeah?”

Tom’s breaths came and went heavily as his jaw clenched, glowering at the demon before him. He knew immediately that this was something he had never put up with before… he - no, _it_ was much taller than his size, and although he fit the description of any other spirit he faced - red horns, sharp teeth, and a spiked tail - some traits were noted…

Like his eyes, silver and so piercing Tom could feel them staring right through his gut. The eye color of demons were always… black.

Not to mention he was standing only a few feet away from him, only making Tom want to kill him faster and get it over with. “Back off,” he growled with no nonsense in his voice, needing to lay down the authority.

Tord obviously didn’t get the hint, though. Well it was either that or he just didn’t care, and Tom figured it was the latter. “Well that’s not very nice,” he purred, pacing around the demon hunter excruciatingly slow, only adding to Tom’s discomfort. “You always seemed like a gentleman from afar.”

As if Tom’s blood couldn’t run any colder. “Stop moving before I shoot,” he spat, but his hand began to tremble. He couldn’t do it.

His finger literally couldn’t pull the trigger. _What? Fuck! Fuck!_

Tord chuckled again, shaking his head and he clicked in tongue in disappointment.  “Trying to shoot me, _Thomas?”_ He grinned, loving the feeling of having the upper hand. “What a shame.”

“What do you want?” Tom asked evenly, growing rigid in his spot. He decided he’d rather not find out why or how he knew his name. He couldn’t deny that the demon looked very much like a human and would have been deceived if he hadn’t noticed the monstrous features… and the fact that he felt some sort of energy that radiated from this spirit that he’d never felt before. It was almost like he was _drawn_ to him.

Shit. He needed to snap out of it!

“Well, I was wondering if we could be more… acquainted.” He smiled innocently as his tail curled around Tom’s leg, making the hunter shiver in fear. “Why don’t we start over, shall we? After a proper introduction we could learn a bit more about each other.”

Each word flowed out of his mouth like a purr. Tom hated it. It confused the shit out of him. Demons weren’t supposed to be this charismatic. They usually just hissed and spat inaudible nothings and try to kill him on the spot, but -

What the hell was he dealing with now?

He tried pulling the trigger again. Nothing. His finger was paralyzed in whatever force Tord had on him.

_Oh my God. I’m going to die._

Tord laughed, almost giggling. Man, watching Tom struggle was a treasure. “Too hard-headed to agree? Fine, I’ll start then.” He straightened his posture and situated his hands behind his back professionally, only puzzling Tom more. “I’m Tord. A demon who may or may not have too much power for his own good, the brother of the many other idiotic animals you killed and, oh, did I mention I have absolutely, _stunningly_ good looks?”

His words and his knowing grin that accompanied it made Tom’s cheeks heat up. Was he flirting with him? After he just admitted that he knew Tom killed many other demons before? “What do you mean you have too much power?” he asked roughly, his gaze fixated on him. He could let his curiosity wonder later, if he was even still alive. He needed to learn more about this _Tord._

“Ah, that’s the spirit! Always willing to learn more.” Tom wanted to slap that stupid smirk off Tord’s face and probably would have if _he could fucking move_. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m not the average beast you’d murder in an alley in cold blood, am I?”

He knew he got to him. Tom shifted in his spot. “I wouldn’t say cold blood. They were harassing civilia-”

“Nuh uh uh, not while I’m speaking,” Tord scolded, shaking a finger in disapproval. “Do you want an answer or not?”

Tom sighed in irritance, slumping his shoulders but refusing to put the spirit gun down. “I do, but… Are you a cambion?”

It would be the only thing that would make sense… a half-demon and half-human. That had to be whatever this thing was… he was just too smart… No, aware. He knew too much, and he seemed capable of a lot.

Tord smiled victoriously. “You catch on quickly,” he murmured, leaning close to his ear, sending shudders down Tom’s spine. Fuck. “Good. Moving on,” he continued, “I’ve seen what you’ve done, my dearest Thomas, and I have to say I’m actually quite impressed.”

Oh? “Impressed?” Tom repeated, choosing to go along with whatever Tord planned. From what it seemed like this thing didn’t want to kill him yet… So two could play at this game.

“Oh yes,” he nodded, a little smile teasing the corners of his lips, “I see what you do. Talking to your precious friends Edd and Matt, slaughtering demons left and right, wiping yourself off like it’s just another chore…” He gave him a sideways glance. “...But that’s just the norm for you, isn’t it?”

Tom hesitated. Okay, maybe he felt a little guilty for putting them through hell, quite literally he might add, but… “That’s where you and your kind belong,” he growled, still squirming in Tord’s invisible hold. “It’s not like you care about them anyway.”

Tord laughed. “Of course I don’t, I’m just saying… It’s ironic.”

He blinked. “What’s ironic?”

Tord shrugs. “That you think throwing away souls into the darkest abyss of the centuries is righteous like you’re a god when you have a few demons of your own.”

Tom cringes, and denies it immediately, but he’s not sure of he said it aloud or whispered it in his mind. “Oh, you know… The binge-drinking, the cursing, the sadistic joy you feel in killing things like us, the occasional nightly pleasure you indulge in when no one’s around…”

His face flushed. “Shut up. That doesn’t mean I’m a bad-”

“But does that mean you’re perfect?” Tord countered, and for the first time in the conversation (would Tom even call this a conversation at this point?) he had a little bite in his tone. Tom opened his mouth to reply, but no sound came out.

Because he half-heartedly agreed that everything Tord said was true.

Tord smiled, satisfied. “I thought so. Your turn.”

“...I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s your turn to introduce yourself.” Tord rose his eyebrow like it was obvious.

Tom rolled his eyes, scoffing. “Why should I? You seem to know everything about me already.”

Tord chuckled in response. “I was merely observing. Now go on.” He waved his hand a little as an encouragement, and Tom sighed. “Fine. I’m Tom. I’m twenty four, and… I hunt demons.” He shrugged. Better keep it simple, he guessed.

The demon stared at him silently, like he was waiting for him to continue. “What?”

“That’s it? You have nothing else to say?” Tord pouted.

Tom scoffed again. “What else do you want me to say? I dunno, I like Italian casseroles?” He glared at him. “Look, you’re nice and everything, but I can’t waste my time on you. I’m a human and you’re a demon, end of story. We can never be friends if that’s what you-”

“Oh, you can’t waste your time on me?” Tord hummed in defiance. “If I’m correct, I was the reason you came all the way down here, no? Didn’t you want to kill me too?”

He smiled, stepping in front of the gun Tom had raised at him and lowered it to the ground like a lever. “And you say I’m nice… Huh. What’s even funnier is that I’m something even worse than you can imagine - a cambion, did you say?” He smirked. “Doesn’t that mean I’m one of you guys? It’d be a shame to hurt a fellow _human,_ even if I had some evil on the side, no?”

Tom groaned, feeling more and more unsure by the second. “What do you want from me?” he asked, feeling defeated. “If you’re gonna kill me just get it over with, fuck. What’s with all the suspe-”

“Wait,” Tord stopped him, “you thought I wanted to kill you? Ha!” Even his accent was profound in his laugh. “After an interaction like this? You flatter me,” he smiled like he just won a prize. “I already told you, I want nothing more than to be your friend.”

“But _why?_ I don’t get it! I don’t even know you!” And he just attacked him for hunting demons! “I kill things like _you_ for a living! Shouldn’t you be scared?”

“I mean, not really,” Tord grinned, “because you’re adorable. You’re so cute when you’re worked up.”

Tom blinked, stammering over his words. “Wh-What? You’re crazy-”

“We should go out sometime. How about tomorrow? Brunch at Anne’s Cafe? One o’clock?”

Tom was dumbfounded. “Uh, y’know, that’s a sweet offer and all, but you’re scaring the hell out of me. I need to go home and fix my friend’s shit you broke. So I think I’ll pa-”

“Nah, I don’t think that’s possible. I can hold you here all night if I want until you agree,” Tord smiled sweetly, and Tom gulped. Because for a moment, despite the fact he was almost terrified by whatever this thing was, he was _handsome_.

God, what was going on in his mind?

“But how am I supposed to know if I can trust you?” Tom asked warily.

Tord tapped his chin dramatically and thought about it, and Tom was sure he already had an answer and just wanted to stretch it out. “Let’s see… My last name is Karson, I’m allergic to cashews and I’m a master at Donkey Kong.” He grinned. “That enough proof for you?”

Tom blanked out, letting it settle in before laughing - he couldn’t help himself. He was pretty sure he was going insane. “You know what? Fine. Brunch at one tomorrow. But this is _not_ a date,” he clarified. He was solely doing this to get his ass home already. “And I don’t ever want to see you after that again. Okay?”

“We’ll see,” Tord chuckled lowly, and Tom didn’t even notice that Tord was leaning closer until he kissed his cheek. “Sounds like a plan. I better see you there,” he purred, his voice fading away with his being as he disappeared into thin air.

Tom blushed, his hand instinctively flying up to caress his skin. It burned… but the heat felt… good.

“Fuck,” he said softly, rubbing his temples.

How would he explain this to Edd?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SO APPARENTLY THIS CHAPTER WAS A HIT AND THERE WILL BE A SECOND PART BECAUSE I LOVE YOU GUYS AND I HAVE A GENERALLY GOOD IDEA OF WHAT WILL HAPPEN  
> Lol im so dramatic  
> But I have a few more requests to fill in (three to be exact) so stay tuned till then! ;)


	23. Beach Boys - Platonic or Romantic (Edd/Matt/Tom/Tord)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All the purest boys go to the beach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a request for a guest (that rhymed pay me)
> 
> This can be seen as a platonic friendship or romantic, whatever fits ur fancy lol  
> I think I'm getting sick my head hurts and my throat's starting to ache someone send help

“Matt! You like fine with the plaid shorts! _Let’s go!_ ”

“But the spotted ones look good too! I can’t decide!”

Tom scoffed, shaking his head with a sigh. This is why they could never go out. Matt could never decide on what to wear (no matter how much Edd insisted he looked great), Tord made a fuss saying they should go to a pool instead (because he claimed he was allergic to mosquitoes and sand always found a way up his ass) and Edd always made a huge deal about picnics.

Edd had a really strange habit with picnics.

“Alright guys, I think we’re good!” he said happily, dragging an obnoxiously large basket of sandwiches and drinks and (of course) cola. He was literally using a cart to drag it around.

“Edd, buddy, whatever’s in there, I can guarantee we are _not_ going to need it all,” Tom deadpanned, staring into his chocolate brown eyes like he’d lost his mind. “The cost of all that could've paid our rent-”

Edd blew a raspberry in his direction. “Whatever, you grumpy turd. Tord and Matt aren’t complaining.” He shot him a sly wink. “But that’s okay, we still love you,” he cooed.

The spiky-haired man sighed, face-palming. Time to check on someone else. He walked to the ginger’s commotion, admittedly curious, but wholeheartedly wanting to get the hell out the house already. He was too pale for his own good and needed a goddamn tan.

“But Tooooord….”

“But nothing, Matt. We all know you look good.” Tord smiled and ruffled his hair, making the ginger giggle and swat it away. “Stop, you’re gonna ruin it!”

Tom rolled his eyes (Eyesockets? Who knew) and huffed. “Okay, we all know Tord’s gay for Matt, congrats. Can we go now?”

Tord laughed, going over to Tom and poking his cheek, which only irritated him further. “Aww, is Tom jealous?”

Tom sucked his teeth, but his cheeks were pink as he shoved him. “Over my dead rotting body,” he huffed, crossing his arms. “Am I the only one who wants to leave? _Now?”_

“Tom, we have all morning,” Matt said with a beaming grin, patting Tom’s cheek affectionately like a grandmother would. Tom only frowned more, turning away so he couldn’t feel the warmth of his blush under his fingers.

He had known all three of them for years, but he didn’t think he’d be able to stand all this charm from them. It was weird. He didn’t deserve their efforts to make him so happy. Moving in with them proved to be difficult.

“Okay, let’s get moving before Tom gets a brain aneurysm,” the Norwegian snickers, swinging an arm around his shoulder, and although Tom’s first instinct is to move away he finally surrenders and gives away a smile. Okay, maybe he can handle this. Maybe.

Once they finally get to the beach Tord is already in the water, relieved to cool himself down and repel those filthy mosquitos that flew around. Tom helped Edd set up the umbrellas and chairs (which took a helluva lot more work than they’d expected considering its size, but they managed) while Matt set to work on building his sand castle.

“For an idiot, Matt knows what he’s doing…” Tom muttered begrudgingly, watching the man build his masterpiece purely out of sand and water. He sculpted like a pro, and it was provoking, to say the least. The only thing Tom was really good at was binge-drinking.

Edd opened his mouth to reply, but Tord came out of nowhere and dumped a bunch of water over Matt’s kingdom, and Tom covered his ears. “Oh no.”

“Tord! Why did you do that?” Matt whined, feeling betrayed by the person who’d showered him in compliments the same morning, and Tord snickered. “Sorry, Matt. Only one person gets to rule this place, and that’s me-”

And soon enough Matt had his foot pressuring over Tord’s head, trying to shove his face in the sand heap he’d created, and Edd and Tom once again had to get their idiots out of another problem.

“Matt! Cut it out! We’ll build you a new one!” Tom barely managed to dodge the foot swinging towards his face in the commotion; If it were up to him he’d let Tord be pummeled (it’d be personally fun to watch) but he wasn’t in the mood to listen to the brat complain later on.

And Edd didn’t want to risk Matt getting hurt either. The last thing they needed was for him to get a bruise so they could postpone his modeling gigs. Again. “That’s it,” he concluded, lifting the “strawberry-blonde” off the ground with ease and walking to the ocean, with him still flailing his limbs around like a ragdoll. “Edd! Let me at him! Where are you taking me? Edd-!”

The brunette tossed him in the water with a laugh, and Tom watched from a distance with his own snicker escaping his lips. Matt tried to dunk Edd into the water as a counter, and Tord groaned, getting up from the ground with the groan. “What the fuck was his problem?”

“You, clearly,” Tom continued to laugh, finally easing up a bit as he nudged him. “Hey, don’t be stupid. You should’ve seen it coming.”

Tord scoffed, looking down to scan his body. “Ugh, now I have sand down my shorts…”

Tom took his chance to glance at Tord’s chest, and gulped as a color cascaded his cheeks. It wasn’t fair… Well, actually, he took it back. Tord had his fair share of hitting the gym and exercising and had gotten his reward - an impossibly sculpted body that was toasted from the sun’s generosity and tanned to perfection.

Tom’s face heated up more at the thought, forcing himself to turn away before Tord could notice he was staring. Tord glanced at him and grinned. “Like what you see?”

Oops. Too late.

“Fuck off, Commie,” Tom growled, but Tord persisted. “Oh, c’mon, Thomas… maybe you can help me wash out the sand in my shorts,” he purred, and Tom lost it.

“You know what? Maybe I will,” Tom smirked, and it was Tord’s turn to blush for the first time the whole day. “Oh, really?” he asked, almost convinced, but he saw the mischievous look in Tom’s expression and tried taking it back.

“Um, actually, I think I’m good-”

But Tom was already dragging him to the water, pushing him in - and when Tord was vulnerable in his shock he yanked off his trunks and swam away.

“Tom! You fucker! Give me back my-” Tord’s face was flushed and redder than a beet, left completely nude in the water with the exception of his sunglasses resting on the top of his head. Edd looked up from his frolicking with Matt and caught on, cracking up. “Good job, Tom. Now we can all get a good look,” he grinned teasingly, the ginger giggling in agreement by his side.

“I’m just helping you clean out your shorts! See?” Tom smirked, stepping onto the shore and dangling the shorts in the air for everyone to see. Tord, with all patience gone and replaced with a newfound defiance, wadded out of the sea as fast as he could and chased after Tom, shameless of his exposed wanger.

Tom was now most definitely having fun, even after they all got kicked out of the beach for Tord exposing his privates.

Yup. He most certainly loved these idiots.


	24. Bad Hair Days - (EddMatt) (TomTord)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's hair is ruined after the hair gel runs out unexpectedly - well, everyone but Edd. Edd has to fix Matt's hair before he has a heart attack and Tom and Tord has to "borrow" some gel from the pharmacy. It's all totally legal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't posted so long holy shit-  
> I'm sorry guys, my laptop broke so I've been using my phone to leave comments and shit but that's pretty much it, anyway I got it fixed and we're back on track!  
> Here's the request someone asked for, I apologize for how late it came out <3

“Edd? Edd! Can you get over here?”

“You’re not calling loud enough! _Edd!”_

A scoff. _“_ Amateurs.”

“Shut up, you dick, you’re not even trying!”

“Stop fighting, you two!”

“Edd!”

“ _Edd!”_

“EDD!”

Edd yelped and flinched in his seat, almost spilling the milk out of his bowl of cereal. The calling of his name from the three familiar voices of the house scared him senseless, but also worried him because they never sounded so desperate before.

Sounds like his housemates were about to make his morning a strange one, again. Why couldn’t he eat his breakfast in peace?

Before he could get up and check on them, the three had already dashed to the living room - and once Edd laid eyes on them he cracked up. “Oh. My. _God.”_

“Don’t laugh!” Matt whined, frowning as he ran his hands through his damp and matted hair in a feeble but useless attempt to keep it up.

Tom sucked his teeth, his hair hanging down to at least his shoulders and he glared his black eye sockets at Tord. “This wouldn’t be happening if you were so _fucking selfish-”_

“Me? I only use that shit once a week!” Tord hissed in his defense. Edd laughed harder, unable to hold it in anymore. What the hell was going on?

“I’m sorry,” he wheezed, fanning his eyes. “I just- I can’t- what _happened_?”

“Tord used all the hair gel, that’s what!” Tom spat, nudging the Norwegian hard, making him groan and nudge him back. “Hey!”

“Wait, so… You three… Your hair…” Edd furrowed his brows and thought, putting the pieces together. “You three have been using hair gel? This whole time?”

“Um, yes?” Tom rose a brow. “Not that you’d know anything about it…”

“Because I naturally look good with my hair as it is? I know,” Edd snickered, and Matt pouted, hurt. “Oh…”

Edd saw that look, and shame stabbed his heart. So much for trying to make his crush ease up a bit. “Hey, you know you look good no matter what,” he smiled, rubbing his shoulder, and Matt flashed a little smile, but still visibly bothered. “I know, but my hair is just as important; it makes up fifty percent of my appearance!”

“What would you know about percentages?” Tord scoffed. “I’ll bet you used ninety percent of _my_ gel that _I_ purchased for _yourself, you worthless pile of dog shi-_ ”

“Okay, let’s settle down,” Edd said, seeing how they were all clearly upset by what happened. No one liked a bad hair day. “How about you and Tom go buy some gel while I deal with Matt’s hair?”

“What’s wrong with my hair?” the ginger asked, and Edd chuckled while he mused it. “What did you put in your hair? Mousse?” It felt like sandpaper, not that he said it aloud.

Matt blushed. “Since we didn’t have the gel, we, uh, tried…”

“Finding an alternative,” Tord finished, fiddling with his fingers. “And, well, turns out water and mousse only makes hair uglier.”

Matt’s lip quivered, close to tears.

Tom nudged him again, scowling. “ _Drier._ It makes hair _drier.”_

Edd furrowed his eyebrows in disapprovement, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “You used Matt as a lab rat?” he accused. “Shame on you! Now both of you go and get some hair gel - and I don’t care if you end up killing each other.” He threw some money at them and shooed them away, leading Matt to the bathroom to find a solution to his dilemma.

Tom narrowed his eyes at Tord. “Good job, Commie. Now I’m stuck with you.”

“Oh, don’t say it like that, Thomas. It should be a privilege,” he grinned, already heading out the door in his pajamas which only consisted in his slippers and a pair of sweatpants.

“Um, excuse me, in case you didn’t know, they don’t allow people in stores without a shirt.”

“Oh yeah? We’ll see,” Tord smiled coyly and exited the house, and Tom crossed his arms as he grumpily followed suit.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Do you even know what you’re doing, Edd?” Matt asked worriedly, looking up at the brunette while he brought out a few bottles and an array of hair products.

“Hmm, well, that depends. My goal was to fix your hair from whatever these two did,” he chuckled, “but I won’t guarantee that it’ll come out the way that you want it without the hair gel.”

Matt was reduced by a considerable height since he was sitting, Edd hovering around him as he prepared to somewhat improve his appearance. Not that Matt wasn’t attractive at all (Edd would wholeheartedly agree that he indeed is the sharpest guy he’d ever met, hands down), but whatever Tom and Tord did to his hair… It wasn’t pretty.

Matt sighed. “Edd… Do I really look ugly with my hair like this?”

Edd stared at him, not expecting the question, since the ginger was always so confident about himself… This whole hair thing going on must be really getting to him. “What? No, of course not! Don’t let a little bad hair day bring you down,” he said with a warm smile. “And look at the bright side, at least you don’t look like Eduardo.”

That brought out a giggle out of him, but Matt still had his shoulders slumped. “Yeah…” But it didn’t change the fact that even Edd had laughed his ass off when he saw him. What a great way to try and impress the only person he admired almost as much as he did himself.

Edd still saw the hurt in his eyes, and it made him feel guilty. Matt never let any negative comments get to him like this… Was it what Edd said earlier? What difference did it make if it came from him? He blushed a little, a little embarrassed to be so bold to think that… Well… Maybe Matt cared for him a bit more than he’d imagined.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” he said softly, getting on one knee to look him in the eye and ignoring the butterflies fluttering in his stomach. “No matter how you look, you’ll always look great to me,” he said with a smile, and a flush cascaded to Matt’s cheeks. Did he really mean that?

“…Thanks, Edd.” Matt’s sea-blue eyes looked up at him gratefully, and next thing Edd knew his hand held his own, the warmth radiating from his palm and rushing up to the rest of his body.

Man, there was always something about Matt that made lose his senses.

Their gazes met and they locked eyes for what seemed like an eternity, until Edd finally broke it, a flustered mess. “Let’s see what we can do about this, okay?”he said, finally starting to relax as he grabbed a bottle of conditioner. “You see, the reason why I don’t use gel is because, well, I know how much of a pain it can be,” he explained, his hands working on Matt’s head. “And the secret to my hair always looking so shiny and soft is this stuff.”

Matt couldn’t see what he was using. “What’s the stuff?”

Edd shook the bottle in front of him with a grin. “Conditioner.”

“I use conditioner! When I wash my hair…”

“So do I, but not when you’re getting ready to go out, right?”

The ginger shook his head feebly. He never realized how dependent he was on hair gel until this point, but there was something about Edd sharing his own styling methods that intrigued him… And kind of disappointed him. He wanted to be the one to impress him, but he supposed it didn’t matter too much, for now.

“Exactly.” The brunette was already almost done. “So if there ever comes a day that we don’t hair gel, just wet your hair a bit and slick it with some conditioner…”

He handed Matt a mirror proudly. “And voilà!”

He was almost scared to look at himself. “Are you sure about this, Edd?”

“Positive.” He smiled and squeezed his shoulder, eliciting a nervous gulp as he finally looked at his reflection… And he gasped.

“I… Oh my.”

“Do you like it?”

“This isn’t half bad,” Matt smiled, not proudly, but relieved. He turned his head a few more angles to see himself better. His hair was smooth again and a little damp, but the look was different…

“I kind of look like you. I suppose that’s a good thing.” Matt grinned.

Edd blushed, laughing. “Our hair does look a bit similar like that, I guess.”

Matt sighed, getting up and stretching before giving Edd a huge, grateful hug. “Thank you so much. Sorry for freaking out earlier,” he apologized sheepishly, and Edd patted his back assuringly. “No problem. Let’s go get you some breakfast.”

And hopefully Tom and Tord wasn’t killing each other while they were at it.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Tom, honest to God, I can’t take you seriously with your hair like that.”

Tom glared at the Norwegian viciously, already fed up. They hadn’t even walked two steps into the pharmacy yet and he already wanted to wring the life out of him. All Tord did was tease him the entire car ride.

“Whatever. At least I don’t look like a mop.”

Tord blinked, trying to hold back a snort. “Um, actually…” He did. His hair hung to his shoulders in a wiry, stringy mess. “You know what, you’re right. Perhaps a wet dog suits you more.”

The Brit sucked his teeth, any remaining patience that could have been in him dissipating. He stopped in his heels and turned to Tord fiercely. “What the fuck is your problem?” He hissed, making other customers stare as they shopped. “Why do you always feel the need to make my life so miserable, huh? Tell me!”

This love-hate relationship that they had going on… It was irritating as fuck. Because every time Tom tried giving Tord a chance he always turned it to shit. But he was so damn attractive and he hated him for it, but he loved how he played the game.

Tord blinked, surprised, but he kept is cool demeanor in check. “Probably because you make it so easy for me,” he purred with a coy smile, leaning forward, making Tom blush and step back.

And he threw his hand back and swung it forward so it connected with Tord’s cheek with a hard smack.

Even now that he thought about it, Tom was surprised. As much as they fought verbally he had never laid a hand on Tord, ever.

“I’m not one of those slutty bitches you flirt with on your way home from a nightclub. Don’t even try it.”

Tord blinked, barely flinching at the contact. He rubbed his cheek, staring at Tom vacantly. He hadn’t expected it either. His stunned silence almost made Tom regret it. Almost.

“Woah, I, uhm, wasn’t planning that,” he explained awkwardly, almost nervous. Tord was much, much stronger than Tom could ever be. He could probably snap him in half like a dried noodle.

“Jeez, you’re sour, aren’t you?” The Norwegian finally managed to muster, half-joking, but there was a little roughness in his tone that clearly let Tom know he wasn’t putting up with it, not today. He stepped towards Tom again, but this time he didn’t smack him. He just stood frozen in his place, unable to pull away from Tord’s steel gaze.

“Listen to me. You’re cute when you’re mad, but I will _not_ tolerate you disrespecting me in public. Understand?”

Tom’s face heated up. So that was how it was going to be played, huh? He grabbed his arm and yanked him closer so they were nose to nose.  “You understand _this_ , you filthy atrocious self-centered trash. You may have a hot and strong body but that does _not_ mean you can amount to anything. _Especially_ me. Get that _?”_

The words were meant to hurt, but for some reason he was smirking and there was a mischievous shine in his pitch black eyes. Something about his suggestive gaze and the boldness of his fiery could’ve made Tord pin him against the wall right then and there.

The Norwegian found himself grinning too, but before either of them could take action in the unspoken venomous attraction between them he felt a little tap on his shoulder.

“Excuse me, sir. You need to wear a shirt to shop here.”

He turned around and shot the store clerk a look that could have made him quit on the spot, eliciting a laugh from Tom while he grinned because he _told him this would happen-_

But they were all about to be in big trouble, because Tord didn’t take that kind of shit. So Tom came up with a plan. He met Tord’s gaze and gave him a subtle nod before turning on his heels and going for the hair styling aisle. Thankfully Tord had understood and started distracting the man before him.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have a spare shirt on me. You have one you can lend me?” he asked innocently but he made it obvious he didn’t give a shit, only irritating the clerk further.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave, sir.”

He tapped his chin in thought. “Nah, I don’t want to. Isn’t your job supposed to convince customers to buy things? Seems like you’re chasing me away.”

“You’re violating the law so I have every right to kick you out-”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Tord snapped, and the clerk flinched. He went from annoying to threatening in a second, but by then Tom had already swiped a bunch of hair gel in a bag that he brought before leaving unnoticed. It didn’t take long before security was called and Tord had to be physically dragged out the store, but he made sure he came out in style as he threw a colorful arrange of curses as he struggled out of spite.

Tom snickered, hands on hips as he watched him stalk over once it was over. “Fucking people with their fucking rules,” he muttered, looking over to him. “Did you get it?”

The brit grinned, opening the bag to reveal all the swiped hair gels - and a pack of cigars for Tord. The Norwegian blinked, surprised. “Oh?”

“Just take it as an apology,” he said, and it was almost sincere, but the smirk on his face made Tord grin as well. “You know, you’re not so bad after all.”

“Don’t push it, I’ll change your mind in a heartbeat. Are you okay?”

“Fuck you.”

“Seems like you’re just fine then,” he chuckled, starting to walk home with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't really proof read this to be honest so if there's a mistake I'm sorry for that too lol, I think it was okay tho


	25. "I'm not addicted." "I never said you were." (Tom/Tord)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger warning for drug abuse kinda?? It's not even severe but just a disclaimer**
> 
> Tord discovers Tom's secret and confronts him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I've posted, huh  
> alSO OVER 3000 hits guys?? Ok i know compared to other stories this is n o t h i n g but I still appreciate it guys, thanks so much!

Just hearing the rattle of pills in the brightly colored bottle sent an unhealthy excitement through Tom’s veins. He shuddered in need, opening the lid with trembling hands and cussing under his breath when he struggled to pop it free. No wonder they designed it to make it so hard to release, it was to keep people like him away from it, but Tom always found a way around them. He was so desperate he just held the bottle above his head and opened his mouth wide, letting them fall in and spitting a few back out in the container, because even in his state of necessity he knew better than to go overboard.

Tom swallowed them dryly and downed his parched throat with water, coughing from the haste. Tears pooled in his eyes as he hunched over the sink, and he made the mistake of looking at himself in the mirror.

Matt was right about what he said earlier, he looked horrible. He was a spitting image of a godforsaken sprite - skinnier, paler, complete with dark bags under his already dusky hued eyes. What happened to him? How did he let this happen? As if drinking wasn’t bad enough… He had to turn to drug abuse?

“Tom! Where are you? Breakfast is ready!”

He gasped at Edd’s voice, but he cleared his throat. Paranoia was another side effect he hated about these things, but in due time his muscles and his racing heart will relax.

Tom sucked his teeth, shaking his thoughts away as he closed the bottle and shoved it in the far corner of the cabinet. No, he wouldn’t call it that. He wasn’t an addict, he just used it for temporary relief. He just… needed a break. And he wasn’t hurting anyone, as long as his housemates don’t find out. He slammed it shut, before splashing some water on his face in hopes it would add some sign of life to his cheeks before leaving the bathroom. It would take a little while for them to kick in, and by then he hoped his mind would ease into the idea of carelessness for a moment.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Jehovah! Where the hell is the soap?”

“Since when did you care about your hygiene?” Tom scoffed sarcastically from his room, not offering any kind of hint for the confused Norwegian.

Tord sucked his teeth, letting out an irritated groan as he looked around. It wasn’t in the spot it was usually in and all he wanted to do was take a shower. Was it that much of a crime?

He scanned the area once more. Where else hadn’t he looked? Oh, the sink cabinet, the only part of the house he hadn’t checked yet. Tord got on his knees and looked through, shoving around a few supplies that weren’t important at the moment, uninterested in everything at the moment but soap - until he laid his eyes on an orange-tinted object with a white lid sealing it shut in the very corner of the expanse.

Tord frowned, taking it, his first thought being it was viagra or something. Who could be having trouble having a good time? He snickered at the thought, turning it over a few times to see who it was prescribed to, recognizing Tom’s first and last name in an instant. Who could the Jehova’s Witness be sleeping with?

He pouted, setting it down. It wasn’t any of his business… But then Tord remembered the time Tom had hid his hentai comics after he gave away one of his bottles of vodka, so he figured it was justified. He read the description of the pills.

He blinked and froze when he realized what they were.

OxyContin.

“What the  _ fuck _ ?” he whispered, staring at the label in disbelief. He read it over and over again.

_ Take one pill every twelve hours until the prescription is up. Used only for moderate to severe pain. Take high caution, can be highly addictive and make the patient dependent. Consult a doctor if any problem or concern arises. _

But Tom wouldn’t need these… This was only given to people who had serious injuries. So why were they here?

Tord gulped, narrowing his eyes. Unless they were being used for other reasons. He stormed out of the bathroom and knocked on Tom’s door, hard. “Open up, Jehova!”

A long, uninterested groan came from the other side, but soon he heard the bed squeaking from being relieved from him getting up and opening the door. “What now, Tord?”

“What the hell are these?” His expression was grim and accusing as he lifted the bottle to Tom’s face and rattled it like maracas.

Tom gasped, trying to snatch them from his grasp immediately. “Give me those!”

Tord rose them over his head so Tom couldn’t reach, and the brit cursed spitefully for being so short compared to the taller man. Suddenly he yanked Tord’s arm and pulled him in his room, slamming the door shut in one swift motion. For a moment they just glared in each other’s eyes, breathing heavily from how fast everything was going and how close they were, but fear shone in Tom’s eyes as they glanced back to the bottle.

“Why can’t you just mind your own fucking business, Commie?” He growled, breaking the silence as he shoved him, but he was so weak Tord couldn’t even consider it a shove - just a frail little push that scarcely made him move an inch.

“Tom… What’s going on?”

He could see it… Tord’s expression had softened into something smoother, and his tone lowered down. He wasn’t glaring in Tom’s eyes anymore… he was searching. Searching for truth, for an answer, for  _ something.  _ Tom hated it when he looked at him like he needed help. And right now, he probably did.

“I don’t need your sympathy,” he muttered, his shoulders slumping as he stepped back, creating more distance between them, but Tord couldn’t take that. He stepped closer, reaching out to him.

Tom furrowed his eyebrows, shying away. “Why do you care so much anyway? It’s not like you gave a shit before.”

Tord hesitated, sighing. “I mean… I didn’t know it was this bad. Where did you even get this stuff? Why are you even taking them?”

“Why does it matter?” Tom asked angrily. “They’re just pills. It’s not like I sell them or anything. I use them exactly for what they’re prescribed for… relief.” And he wasn’t lying… He just had to twist it up a little. 

Tord took a deep breath. Was this really happening? “Tom… This is really risky. These are extremely addictive.” Even someone as dense as Tom knew that. And he had a drinking problem too… Tord feared the chance of him taking them with vodka and end up having a seizure. Or worse. He shook the dark possibility from his head, overwhelmed.

“I’m not addicted!” Tom said defensively, and Tord furrowed his eyebrows. “I never said you were. Thomas, there are other ways to cope, you know,” he said softly, and Tom cringed.

“You wouldn’t know that. You don’t know what I go through.”

A sigh. “Then… Let me know.”

Tom blinked. “What?”

“Let me know,” Tord repeated again, trying to find better words to make his point. “Let me  _ understand…  _ Because, honestly, Tom, I don’t. I don’t know the struggles you’re going through. I won’t lie and say that I do.” He stepped closer, and this time Tom didn’t move away. He was listening. “But I will admit that I’m not the best at expressing things. And I’m sorry if I acted like a dick to you.”

Tom let out a bitter laugh. Tord apologizing? That was new. “If?”

Tord cracked a little smile. “Okay, I’ve been a huge dick. The worst.” He let out another sigh. “Listen, I won’t say anything to Edd and Matt. You have my word. Just… let me help you. I promise I’ll listen, to every word.”

And finally, he threw caution into the wind and gently pulled Tom into a hug. “I don’t want to see you hurting anymore,” he said quietly.

Tom stiffened, still untrusting, but the words he said… They were something that he had wanted to hear for a really long time. He just didn’t expect them to come from his enemy. But they didn’t have to think about all that right now, right? He hesitantly wrapped his arms around him, relieving the stress from his shoulders as he rested his head on Tord’s shoulder.

“Alright… I don’t want to regret this,” he murmured, fearful.

Tord rubbed his back. “You won’t,” he vowed, and he swore that he felt just a little bit of the weightful cargo of Tom’s worry lighten up as he held him close.

**Author's Note:**

> **If anyone has any requests feel free to throw them at me  
> I literally live off of comments and appreciate them so damn much


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